Meant to Be
by Dean's Dirty Little Secret
Summary: Dean and Amie find out they are the subjects of an ancient, angelic prophecy and no one seems to know what it means or what will happen if it comes true. Now everyone they know is struggling to find the answers before it tears Dean and Amie apart, in more ways than one. Sequel to The Winchester Way. (Rated M for language/graphic sex, Dean x OFC, eventual Sam x OFC) Please review!
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything related to Supernatural at all, it is owned by the CW and Kripke. It is merely an inspiration. I do own Amie, she is my own creation. Any resemblance to a real person is purely coincidental.**_

_**Spoilers: Story has flashbacks to season 8 and somewhat follows the timeline of season 9, though I have changed up some stuff. There is no Ezekiel/Gadreel in my story and I like Kevin, so... **_

**Prologue**

_Washtenaw County, Michigan_

_Approximately 1 year ago _

_Adelpha peered through the small window into the dining area. She'd never been more nervous about a mission before. But then again, she'd never been given such a high priority assignment either. One of her targets was already in the restaurant, sitting at a booth, drinking coffee while reading a book. She just needed the other to arrive, then she'd be able to get to work. She decided she should get out front so she could maneuver the two of them close together, otherwise she'd never accomplish what she'd been sent to do._

_Adelpha had been briefed on the previous attempt on these particular targets. It had been more than a year ago at their first meeting. It had been a dismal failure; no one had even gotten close to them. They'd had to wait more than a year to try again. If she could pull this off, it would be a triumph for her. She was determined to make sure that happened._

_The bell over the door rang, signaling new customers. She quickly glanced to the front and saw the second of her targets come through the door. Time to get to work. _

_She hurried past the other waitress and approached the two men standing at the front of the restaurant. They made her extremely nervous, but then again, the Winchesters made everyone nervous, especially Dean. She put on her best smile as she grabbed two menus and smiled at the brothers. Her plan wouldn't work if she didn't get them seated where she wanted them. _

_"Evening, gentleman," she said. "Just the two of you?"_

_The taller of the two, Sam, nodded. "Yeah, thanks."_

_Adelpha led them to a table in the middle of the restaurant, right next to the booth where her other target was seated. So far so good. She handed them menus and took their drink order, promising them she'd return soon. She turned to the booth and asked the woman seated there if she needed anything._

_The cute redhead smiled up at her. "Some more coffee, please," she replied._

_"Amie?" Adelpha heard Sam say as she walked away from the booth. She breathed a sigh of relief. Perfect, they'd noticed each other. Things were going just as she'd planned. _

_She waited several minutes before she returned to the dining area, giving the Winchesters and the woman named Amie time to talk. She needed Amie to move to their table and to sit next to Dean or her mission would fail. Her palm itched, the need to do what she'd been sent to do was becoming overwhelming. _

_She was relieved when she returned from the kitchen, drinks in hand, and saw that Amie had moved to the table with the Winchester brothers and was sitting next to Dean. This was going much better than she had ever imagined it would. She was just close enough to him for what Adelpha needed to do. She hurried over, a smile plastered on her face. _

_"Well, what happened here? I could have sworn I had two tables when I left a minute ago," she said cheerily, though her voice sounded shaky and nervous in her ears._

_Sam smiled up at her. "She'll be joining us, if that's not a problem."_

_"Sounds great," Adelpha said as she set her tray of drinks on the table. As she passed them around, she purposefully made herself trip so she had to put one hand on Dean's shoulder and one on Amie's. She felt the familiar zing of the arrows leaving the bows on her palms. Both Dean and Amie looked slightly startled for a split second, then the moment passed and their conversation continued as if nothing happened. _

_Adelpha stepped back from the table, content with the knowledge that she had succeeded. It was just a matter of time before the arrows took effect. They were one step closer to the prophecy becoming reality._


	2. Chapter 1

**PART I**

**Chapter One**

Amie stumbled as she got out of the bed, the sheet twisted around her legs. She yelled at Dean to wait, but he didn't stop. The look on his face had terrified her; it was a look of pure fury. She didn't know what had happened, but she knew she needed to find out, fast. She untangled herself from the sheet and threw on the first clothes she found on the floor, her shorts and Dean's t-shirt. She took off at a run down the hall, trying to catch him. She flew around the corner, her bare feet sliding on the floor, nearly slamming into the wall before she got her balance. She took the stairs two at a time, but it wasn't fast enough. She made it to the middle of the garage just in time to see the back end of the Impala and Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

She stood there, her hands clasping her elbows, unsure of what exactly was going on. Everything had been fine just a little while ago. She'd fallen asleep wrapped in Dean's arms after they made love, content for the first time in a long time. She'd woken up when he got out of the bed, but after he'd kissed her cheek and whispered 'I love you' she'd fallen right back to sleep. The next thing she knew, he was running away from her with no explanation.

"Amie?" Sam said from behind her.

She jumped. She'd forgotten that she wasn't alone in the bunker. She turned around slowly, still not quite sure what was happening.

"Sam? What the hell?" she implored. "Do you know what that was about?" She could feel the tears threatening, her throat constricting.

"Yeah, I think I do," he replied. "Why don't you come down to the library with me and I'll try to explain?"

Amie looked behind her one more time, hoping to hear the tell-tale sound of the Impala coming back. When there was nothing, she followed Sam down the stairs.

She passed Kevin in the hallway, a painful smile on his face. He patted her on the shoulder and then went into his room and shut his door. Amie hurried down the hall to the library. She sat in one of the chairs at the table, drawing her knees up and hugging them. Sam sat across from her, his hands folded in front of him, a serious expression on his face. He had a small, very old looking book on the table in front of him.

"I think I know what Katarina was talking about when she said you are meant for another purpose," Sam said. Rather than meet her eyes, he adjusted the book on the table. "I told Dean about it earlier. I think it's why he's upset, why he left."

"Okay," Amie said, drawing the word out in her confusion.

Sam fidgeted in his chair, his discomfort evident. He pushed the book toward her. "Kevin found a prophecy. A really old one, buried in this book. It basically says that two hunters will come together to create a paradox, the likes of which neither the angels nor the demons have ever seen." He paused, finally looking at her. When he saw the confusion still on her face, he continued. "We think the hunters are you and Dean."

"What?" Amie blurted out, surprised at Sam's words. "Us? Are you sure?" She picked up the book, but she couldn't read Enochian, so she set it back down. Sam handed her a piece of paper, covered in notes and scribbles. She read over it, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Circled in the middle of the page was the supposed prophecy. The notes surrounding it referenced a lot of different things, then connected those things to herself or Dean. "Forged in heartache, what does that mean?"

"It's another description of the hunters. It explains why you're hunters, because heartache, grief, misery or whatever pulled you into this life. Dean became a hunter because of Dad and his heartache over losing Mom. Your heartache comes from the death of your husband and son and it's what brought you back into the life," Sam told her.

"And you really think this refers to Dean and me?" Amie asked again.

"Positive, but Kev is still researching it just to make sure. But that's not the worst of it, the part that Dean's upset about," Sam explained. "According to the prophecy, these two hunters, you and Dean, are meant to be together, it's your destiny. You two are, and forever will be, inevitably drawn together. In fact, you two falling in love was so important that the prophecy says that you were brought together by 'love's arrow'. By a cupid. To ensure that it would happen."

Amie laughed. "A cupid? Are you joking? Cupids are real?" She was starting to feel like this was a bad dream and she would wake up any minute.

Sam was nodding. "Well, yeah. They're really just a lower-level angel. According to Castiel, they're cherubs, third-class. It's their responsibility to bring people together, marking them so they fall in love, if it's deemed important by Heaven."

Amie suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, I am," Sam noted. "I think that's why Dean is angry." Amie felt Sam watching her, assessing her. He took a deep breath before he continued. "He thinks it's a lie, all of it."

"A lie?" For a minute she couldn't quite comprehend what Sam was telling her, but then it hit her like a slap in the face. "He thinks _we're_ a lie, doesn't he? That the way he feels about me isn't real because a cupid supposedly brought us together. That's what he's upset about, why he's angry." Her control slipped and she heard the catch in her voice. "Why he looked like he hated me." She felt the tears slip down her face.

Sam reached across the table and grabbed her hands. "He said he's tired of the angels deciding his fate, telling him what to do because they say it's his destiny. He loves you and he thought that was real, but now this changes everything."

"But it is real," Amie sobbed. She wrenched her hands from Sam's and stood up. "I do love him and he loves me. It's real, Sam, I know it is." She started pacing, her bare feet slapping on the floor.

Sam's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "You don't have to convince me. But you might have to convince Dean."

"I…um…Excuse me, will you?" She left the library without waiting for an answer.

Amie hurried down the hall, brushing the tears from her face. She stepped into Dean's room and quickly gathered her things from the floor and dresser where she had thrown them. She couldn't stay in there, everywhere she turned she saw Dean. That just made the pain deeper and sharper. She turned off the light and shut the door, then walked the short distance to her room.

She threw her stuff on the chair and pushed her door shut. Her phone was on the nightstand by the bed where she had left it. She picked it up, hoping and praying that there would be a message from Dean. There wasn't, so she pulled up her contacts and found Dean's number. She pressed send, put the phone to her ear and waited.

"You've reached Dean's other _other_ phone…." Amie hung up before it finished, not bothering to leave a message. She wasn't surprised that Dean hadn't answered. She sat down on the edge of the bed, not sure what she should do. She threw herself backward into her pile of pillows and stared at the ceiling. She stayed like that for the rest of the night.

* * *

She ran, her feet hitting the pavement in time with the beat of the music pouring into her ears. She counted as she ran—one, two, three, four—over and over again, hoping to drown out the voice in her head, the voice that just kept repeating the words 'your fault, your fault' as if it was a mantra.

Sometime in the middle of the night, around two or three a.m., she'd come to a disturbing realization. If she and Dean were meant to be together, if it was their destiny and this prophecy was true, then the death of her son and husband had also been inevitable. If the angels in Heaven wanted her with Dean, and she needed to be 'forged from heartache' like the prophecy said, then nothing she could have done would have prevented their deaths. It was an unavoidable necessity. It was also her fault.

The guilt had overwhelmed her. She'd always felt a certain amount of guilt regarding their deaths, especially since she had lived. After she found out that they'd been killed because of an old grudge against her father, she'd felt even more culpable. But this, this had rocked her world and her understanding of her place in it. The feeling that no matter what she did they would have died anyway was a blow that she couldn't get past.

She'd cried for hours, remorse and heartache tearing her apart. When her head started pounding and her chest started to burn from sobbing, she'd put on her workout clothes and slipped out the door. She had been running for more than an hour. Her legs felt like Jell-O and she was about ready to drop from exhaustion, but she didn't care. She would run forever if she had to.

The water bottle she'd grabbed was empty, so Amie decided it was time to turn back. She'd left her phone at the bunker and she hadn't told anyone where she was going. She knew Sam was already worried about Dean, she didn't want to compound the problem. She stepped up her pace, nearly sprinting.

Kevin was sitting at the library table when she got back, eating a sandwich and reading. She waved at him and went to the kitchen to grab some more water. She was leaning against the sink, headphones still in and eyes closed, trying to catch her breath and gather her thoughts when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She was so startled she dropped the glass of water she'd gotten in the sink and hit her knee against the counter. She swung around, ready to defend herself.

"Shit, Sam!" she yelled as she yanked out her headphones. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry. Where'd you go? You've been gone forever." He backed up several steps, giving her some space. "And you didn't take your phone."

"I know," she replied. "I needed some air, so I went running. I guess I just lost track of time. Have you heard from Dean?" He'd been gone for more than twelve hours with no contact.

Sam nodded. "He called. He's fine. He sounded drunk off of his ass and he wouldn't tell me where he was. Said he was going to get some sleep and he'd be back tonight."

Amie felt relief flood her. She didn't realize how worried she'd been about him until that moment. "Did he ask to talk to me?"

Sam hesitated for a brief second, but it was long enough for Amie to know the answer. She nodded as the pain hit her like a punch to the gut. "Did he even ask about me?" she asked.

Sam shook his head, a distraught look on his face. "No, sorry."

Amie gave him a small smile. "It's okay, really. No big deal." She opened the refrigerator and took out a water bottle. "I'm gonna go take a shower, try to get some sleep. I didn't get much last night."

Sam took a step toward her. "Look, Dean's an ass, we both know that. But he does love you and he will realize that he does, no matter what his destiny is. Just give him some time…."

Amie put her hand up, interrupting him. "I'm not sure I have anything left to give," she said, her voice shaking. She was going to lose it, again. She just wanted to get away so she could lock herself in her room and do it in peace. "Thanks, Sam."

"For what?" he inquired, a confused look on his face.

"For being such a good brother that you'll try to defend Dean no matter what he does. He's lucky he's got you," she answered. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "And thank you for being my friend," she whispered.

Before Sam could say anything else, Amie left the room. By the time she hit the library, she was practically running. Once again she felt the tears falling down her face. She just needed to be alone. She didn't need everyone witnessing her heart breaking.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Dean just drove. He didn't have a destination in mind or a direction he wanted to go. Once he hit the two-lane road out of town, his mind shut down and he went on autopilot. He took the turns without seeing them, he passed through small towns without acknowledging their existence. He turned the music up loud, hoping it would keep him from thinking about what had just happened.

Except it wasn't working. The only thing he could see was Amie's face as he pulled out of the garage, leaving her behind. He could hear her calling his name as he ran away from her. That morphed into memories of making love to her, his name falling from her lips with a breathless moan, her face as he brought her to climax over and over….

Dean jerked the wheel to the right, skidding to a stop on the shoulder. He clenched his fists and pushed them into his eyes, wishing he could rip every thought and memory of her out of his head forever. He didn't want to think about her anymore. It hurt too much. He was so in love with her that it practically consumed him. Except none of it was real. His mind kept circling back around to that over and over.

His cell phone rang, that damn Celine Dion song that Sam had jokingly assigned to Amie's number blaring from the tiny speaker. He pulled it out and looked at it, trying to decide if he should answer it or not. His finger hovered over the answer button, but he just couldn't do it. He didn't know what to say to her or how to even explain how he felt. He let it go to voicemail.

He needed a drink. Dean looked over his shoulder and pulled back onto the road. He drove for a while before he found a small bar on the outskirts of Manhattan, Kansas, conveniently located across the road from a motel. Perfect, now he could get drunk and not have to worry about driving. He parked at the motel and checked in, before walking across the street to the bar.

The parking lot of the bar was relatively full for a weeknight. Dean could hear horrific rap music rolling out the door as he approached, along with loud, obnoxious and decidedly young voices. He stopped with his hand on the door and took a deep breath. Maybe this was a bad idea. Manhattan was a college town, so it was quite possible that the bar would be filled with fraternity brats and their sorority girlfriends. He wasn't sure he was in the mood for that. But then again, he really needed that drink. He decided he'd give it a shot, he could always leave if he had to. He pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The bar was pretty small; there were about seven or eight tables besides the fifteen foot bar, a pool table and a jukebox, which appeared to be the most modern thing about the place. It actually reminded him of Harvelle's, making him feel slightly nostalgic. As he slid onto a stool close to the door, it crossed his mind again that this might not be a good idea.

The twenty-something bartender slapped a napkin down in front of him. "What can I get you?" he asked, his gum smacking.

"Whiskey. Whatever you've got plenty of. And leave the bottle, okay?" Dean replied.

The bartender shrugged. "You got it." He leaned back and grabbed a glass, along with a bottle of Heaven Hill Kentucky Whiskey and put it down in front of Dean. "Enjoy yourself."

Dean picked up the bottle, smirking at the irony of the name on the bottle. He poured himself a glass and quickly downed it before immediately pouring another. He looked around the bar, taking in his surroundings.

There were about ten or so college students gathered around the pool table at the back of the bar. It looked like the majority of them were the fraternity boys that Dean had thought they were, with maybe four or five girls wandering around vying for the boys' attention. Two older men in their fifties sat at the opposite end of the bar from him, along with the young male bartender and another older female counting out the drawer of the cash register. Aside from the terrible music coming from the jukebox, things seemed pretty calm.

He took another drink from his glass of whiskey. He was feeling slightly buzzed, but not enough that the images of Amie had left his head yet. Every time he pictured her face, he took a drink. Within a half an hour, he had drank half of the bottle. If he kept it up, he'd be wasted in no time, which was exactly what he was hoping.

Dean felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see a lanky blonde precariously perched on the stool next to him. She couldn't have been much older than the legal age of twenty-one. She gave him a huge smile, all white teeth and cherry-red lipstick.

"Hi," she cooed. "I'm Ashley." She held out a hand.

Dean shook it. "Hi there Ashley, I'm Dean," he replied. He gave her his best crooked grin. It had been a while since he'd flirted; it felt unnatural. He wasn't even sure he was interested in flirting with this girl. The old Dean would have been all over her in a heartbeat, but things were different. He was different.

Ashley giggled. It was high-pitched and sharp and felt like pins stabbing into his ears. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most amazing green eyes ever?" She stared unashamedly at him, scooting closer to him as she did.

Dean mustered a smile. He felt uncomfortable and awkward; he was definitely not interested in flirting with this girl. "I've been told that a time or two." His reply was purposely short and curt. He picked up his drink and took a sip, hoping if he ignored Ashley, she would decide to go away.

She apparently wasn't taking the hint. She settled herself completely on the stool next to him and ordered some girly drink with a dumb name from the bartender. Dean sighed. Amie would have ordered a beer.

"I'm sorry, Ashley, but I'm not looking for company. Just want to drink my drink in peace," Dean explained, tipping his glass at her. He knew he couldn't sit here next to this girl. Every time he looked at her, he compared her to Amie. She was too young, wore too much make-up, and smiled too big. In other words, she wasn't a certain gorgeous redhead he knew.

Ashley smiled at him. "That's fine, I'll just sit here and drink my drink. No talking necessary."

They sat in silence for several minutes, Dean watching her stare at him out of the corner of his eye. He hurried to finish his drink; it was time to go. When he finished the bottle of whiskey, he signaled the bartender and pulled some cash from his wallet. He figured with what he'd had to drink, plus a few of the beers he had in the Impala, he'd pass right out, no thoughts of Amie.

"It was nice to meet you, Ashley, but I think I've had enough for one evening," Dean said as stood up and headed for the door.

He noticed Ashley's eyes dart around the room before they settled on a burly frat boy in a purple sweatshirt. She followed Dean and latched onto his arm as he tried to leave, a fake smile plastered on her face.

Dean tried to push her hand away as he stepped out the door. She hung on and went with him. As the door swung closed behind them, Dean scowled at the young college student that had attached herself to him.

"Look little girl, I am not interested in helping you make your boyfriend jealous or whatever it is you are trying to do," he grumbled. "It will not end well, I promise you."

Just then the bar door opened again and the boyfriend stepped out. "Too late," Ashley murmured as she stepped away from Dean.

"Shit," he muttered, rolling his eyes. He braced himself for the punch he knew was coming. He knew there was no point in trying to explain anything, drunk, jealous boyfriends never listened.

Sure enough, the frat boy threw a punch, aiming directly for Dean's nose. He turned his head at the last minute, the punch landing on his cheek instead. It rocked him back a couple of steps, but Dean figured that was due to the alcohol he'd consumed rather than the strength of the punch. His butt hit the car behind him. He used it to push himself forward. He was going to end this quickly. A bar fight with some idiot was not what he was looking for. He threw an uppercut that sent the college kid flying backward, landing on his ass in the gravel. Ashley rushed to his side, Dean all but forgotten.

Dean turned and walked away, quickly crossing the street to the motel. He didn't know how this day could get any worse.

* * *

Dean woke up, his head literally pounding. He rolled to his side, nausea working its way through him. He grabbed his phone to see what time it was. It was just after three p.m. He'd slept a lot longer than he thought he would. Thankfully, it had been dream free. The bottle of whiskey and three beers had done their trick.

He sat up slowly, praying he wouldn't puke. Or that he'd at least wait until he was in the bathroom to do it. He wasn't sure that how he felt right now was worth the lack of dreams.

He looked at his phone again. The blue light was blinking. He scrolled through it. There was a text message from Sam, asking him if he was on his way back. Had he called last night and said he was coming back? He didn't remember. There were also a voicemail, from Amie. He flipped his phone back and forth from hand to hand, not sure if he wanted to listen to it. He set his phone on the bed and went into the bathroom.

Once he'd showered, he felt a lot better. The nausea was gone and the headache was just an annoyance. He came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and sat on the bed. He'd made up his mind to just get it over with and listen to the damn voicemail. Dean picked up his phone and pressed the button to access it. It started almost immediately.

"Hey Dean, it's…um…me. I just wanted to see if you were okay. Sam told me everything. I'm not sure what to say. Especially since whatever I say won't matter. You need to do what you need to do. I know you don't think that what we have is…well, real or whatever. But I do." There was a long enough pause that Dean thought the message was over. He was about to hang up when he heard Amie's voice again. "I love you, Dean." He pressed end without deleting the message.

He ran a hand over his face and through his damp hair. He should get back. Try to talk to her. He didn't know what he would say, let alone what he was going to do, but he couldn't leave her hanging. At least he'd have time to figure it out on the way back to the bunker.

* * *

Unfortunately, the drive wasn't long enough to get all of his thoughts together. Dean wasn't sure any length of time would have been enough. He'd even procrastinated as much possible, stopping to eat and then again a while later for a large coffee. His headache was back in full force and his cheek was throbbing where the college kid had hit him. Needless to say, he was in a bad mood when he pulled the Impala into her parking spot in the garage.

He stepped out of the car and went down the stairs. As he came down the hall, he noticed Amie's door was slightly open. He could see her bare feet and legs on the bed. She was laying on her stomach, ankles crossed, with a book open in front of her. She was moving her lips as she read. Dean leaned against the doorjamb and watched her, his mind racing, noticing the things about her that had drawn him to her in the first place. She was beautiful, in a subtle kind of way. She'd never been one of those girls that people stopped and stared at, a lot of her beauty came from her personality. And she was smart, not just book smart, but common-sense smart. She made him laugh and she made him feel better than he'd felt in years. But he couldn't help but wonder if he felt this way because a cupid said he had to or because he genuinely loved her? He sincerely hoped it was the latter.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. "Hey," he mumbled.

Amie looked over her shoulder at him, a small smile on her face. "Hi," she said. "When did you get back?" she asked as she turned around and sat up, pulling the book into her lap.

"A few minutes ago. What are you reading?" he asked. He stepped into the room and sat on the chair by the door, though what he really wanted was to go to her, gather her in his arms and bury his face against her neck. She always made him feel better. Instead, he squeezed his hands together and stayed put. He wasn't quite ready for that yet.

She glanced at the book in her lap, then held it up so he could see the cover.

"Ancient Languages? And which one are you studying?" He smiled. She never disappointed him.

"Enochian. I thought it would help me understand the prophecy better if I could read it myself, instead of relying on Sam or Kevin to read it to me. It's tricky, but I'll get it." She shrugged and laid the book back in her lap. She started wringing her hands, a sure sign that she was nervous.

Dean nodded, not sure what to say. The silence between them was awkward and uncomfortable, something he wasn't accustomed to when it came to him and Amie. They'd been a lot of things—passionate, angry, loving, and even scared—but they had never had an awkward moment before. He didn't like it.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You said you talked to Sam?" He waited for her to nod. "So, do you understand how I feel? About the whole 'this is your destiny' shit?"

Amie shrugged. "I suppose I do. But it doesn't change how I feel about you. I know I love you."

Dean looked at the ground, unable to look her in the eye. "For the first time in a long time, I thought I had something I could believe in, something that this damn life hadn't tainted. Shit, you were the first good thing that came into my life because I was a hunter. I would never have met you otherwise. But I was wrong, it is tainted. Tainted by a destiny I don't want to believe in. This whole prophecy thing has made me rethink my feelings. I love you or at least I think I love you. But I feel like I need time to figure out _why_ I love you." He glanced up at her just as she wiped a tear from her cheek. "Shit, this isn't coming out right. I'm not trying to upset you…."

"Too late," she muttered. "Look, Dean, I get it. No one wants to be told how they feel. Or be told that their entire life they have been destined to end up in this place, with this person, at this time. That no matter what you do, this is where you'll be. It's hard to suddenly realize that your whole life everything you have done or said has pushed you to this one moment in time, whether you like it or not. But I know that what we have is amazing. That it _is_ love. I've never felt like this before, not even with my husband, and whether it's my destiny or not, I believe in it. It means that much to me."

Dean didn't know what to say. He was so angry—with the angels, with being forced to do something against his will yet again, even with Amie because she wasn't more upset—that he didn't know if he could get past it. Before he could figure out what to say, if anything, there was a knock on Amie's door and Sam stuck his head in.

"Hey Dean, you're back," he smiled at his brother, then turned his attention to Amie. "Did you still want to talk to Crowley?"

Dean sat up straight in his chair, immediately on edge. "Why the hell are you going to talk to Crowley?" He didn't like it when she talked to the King of Hell. He was extra smarmy when he was around Amie and it irked Dean to no end that he would talk to her and no one else.

Amie got off the bed. "Because he's a demon, Dean. Since the prophecy mentions demons, I thought he might know something. The whole 'King of Hell' thing and all." She grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from a bag on the floor. "I'll be there in a minute, Sam." She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Sam turned to his brother. Dean could see the worry on his face. "You two okay?" he asked.

"Nope, not yet," Dean replied. "Thanks to the damn angels and their stupid prophecy, I'm not sure if we ever will be."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Dean and Sam followed her to the dungeon where they kept Crowley. Amie could feel Dean's eyes on her, burning a hole in her back. She hated what was happening between them, but to a certain extent she understood the struggle Dean was going through. The life of a hunter was a shitty one and to actually find something good in it was unexpected. Except apparently a whole host of angels had expected it and made sure it happened, thereby taking the good and twisting it into something entirely different. It was a lot to process.

Dean stopped her just before she opened the door, his hand on her elbow. "Remember, stay out of the trap. Don't get too close to him. I'll be right next to you."

Amie rolled her eyes, shook off his hand and pulled the door open. Both Dean and Sam immediately moved past her to open the shelves that hid the demon from view. She flipped the lights on and walked past them to stand in front of Crowley, just outside the demon trap.

"Hello, lovely. Haven't seen you in a while," he purred.

She knew her best bet was to suck up to Crowley, make him feel important and flirt with him, so she could get whatever information possible out of him. She also knew she wasn't going to do it by following Dean's rules. She sidled forward, crossing into the trap. She heard Dean's sharp intake of breath as he muttered some choice curse words.

"Hm, I don't think your boyfriend likes you this close to me," Crowley murmured, his eyes sliding up and down her body.

Amie shrugged and leaned over the table, setting the book with the prophecy down as she did. She'd purposely worn a tight fitting low cut t-shirt, so she knew Crowley was getting an eyeful. She kept her focus on him, staring at his face, trying to keep her disgust in check. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes glued to her chest. When they darted up to meet hers, she smiled slowly at him.

"I was wondering if you and I could talk?" she said in a low voice.

Crowley smiled and leaned forward as far as the chains holding him would allow. "Happy to, love. But not with Moose and Squirrel in the room. I think you'll be far more interesting if we're alone." He winked at her.

Amie straightened up, swiveling so she could lean one hip against the table. The boys were right behind her. Sam had his hand on Dean's arm, holding him back. Dean's face was literally a mask of anger. This wasn't going to be easy. "Could you give us a minute?"

Dean immediately shook his head. "Absolutely not," he growled.

She turned back to Crowley, held up one finger and dropped him a wink. "One minute," she whispered. She stepped out of the circle and walked up to Dean. She looked him directly in the eye, hoping he could see the anger and impatience she was feeling on her face. "Let me talk to him by myself, Dean. I'll be fine."

He just kept shaking his head no. "I don't want you alone with him. I'll go sit over there or something, but I won't leave you alone." His green eyes flashed with anger and his voice was shaking.

Amie glanced at Sam and moved toward the door, taking Dean's hand and pulling him with her. Once the three of them were next to the door, she yanked it open and gestured for them to leave. "Get out, Dean," she spat. "It's the only way he'll talk to me and it might be the only way we get any answers. Stop being a stubborn ass. He's chained up in a demon trap, he's not going anywhere. Give me a little bit of credit. I think I can handle him. Alone."

Dean shook his head again, but he looked unsure. Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room. He yanked it away and turned back to her. "Just be care…."

Amie shut the door in his face, cutting him off. She heard him swear through the door. She didn't have the time or the patience for his overprotective bullshit right now. She had a demon to talk to.

"Well, that was interesting," Crowley quipped. "Trouble in paradise?"

She fixed a smile on her face before turning around. "Maybe a little," she laughed. "Wouldn't you just love that?" She grabbed a chair on her way back to the table, dragging it behind her and putting it at the table. She sat down and opened the book to the prophecy before sliding it across the table to Crowley.

He leaned forward and read it. He glanced at Amie when he finished, then read it again. "I haven't seen this in years. Hundreds of years. Where did you find it?" She could see the curiosity on his face.

"Kevin found it. But you have seen it?" she asked. That was the first good thing she'd heard all day

"Not the original mind you, just copies. And of course, I have heard of it," he replied. "I was never sure I believed it because not many demons have ever seen it. Plus it's an angelic prophecy and I'm always suspect of those. Pesky angels anyway and their wordy prophecies." Crowley watched her for a minute. "What does this have to do with you, love?"

Amie grimaced, feeling uncomfortable. "An angel told me that I'm meant for another purpose. Our research brought us to this." She gestured to the book. "Sam thinks the prophecy is about me and Dean."

Crowley nodded. "That makes a certain kind of sense, I suppose. Do you know what any of the rest of it means?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she confessed. "That's why I'm talking to you."

Crowley sat back in his chair, a grin on his face. "There have always been rumors and conjecture about the prophecy, about its true meaning. Who are the hunters? What is the paradox? But no one seems to know and the angel who wrote the prophecy is long gone. One thing I do know for certain is that the angels want the prophecy to come true, the demons not so much. Whatever this paradox is, it has the potential to be the end of demons."

"So what is the paradox? Do you know?" Amie demanded, sitting forward in her chair.

"Sorry, love. I have no idea," Crowley answered. "I'd tell you if I knew. By the way, how is your overprotective knight in tainted armor taking all of this?"

Amie paused, not sure how to answer him, or if she even wanted to. Crowley smirked at her. "You know how this works. I answer your questions, you answer mine."

She rubbed her forehead. She was getting headache. "Dean's still adjusting to all the 'it's our destiny, cupid brought us together' shit." She stood up and started pacing. "He's pissed. Kind of being a dick. Took off for an entire day. Now he's saying he's not sure if he really loves me since a cupid said he had too." Amie threw herself into the chair, her feet on the table. "Whatever." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She could feel the damn tears coming again. She couldn't believe she'd just told Crowley all of that.

"I've always thought he was a bit of an ass," Crowley joked.

"That's an understatement," she giggled. Crowley laughed along with her. It felt good to laugh, even if it was with a demon.

She stood up and picked up the book. She dropped into a curtsy, still giggling. "Thank you, kind sir, for your help." She took a step toward the door, ready to leave.

"Amie, love?" Crowley murmured quietly. She turned back to look at him. "If any demons find out that this prophecy could be potentially happening, you will be in danger. Both of you. You need to be careful."

She nodded, surprised at the King of Hell's warning. Before she left she pushed the shelves closed, giving Crowley a little wave as she did. She turned off the light and stepped out of the room. Of course, Dean was waiting for her outside the door, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Well, did he know anything?" he demanded. "Or did he just jerk you around as usual?"

"He was actually helpful," Amie told him. She explained exactly what Crowley had said to her.

Dean nodded, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Awesome. So the angels are glad we're together and the demons will be pissed. I love how there's never a minute's peace with us," he said sarcastically.

"That's us, a laugh a minute," she joked, smiling. She took two careful steps toward him. When he didn't move away, she moved closer. Ever since he'd walked into her room earlier, she'd wanted to touch him. Needed to touch him. She didn't stop until she was directly in front of him, then she leaned forward and kissed him gently, almost chastely. He didn't return the kiss, but he didn't pull away either. Taking that as a good sign, she pressed herself against him and kissed him again. This time, he returned the kiss, grabbing her waist and sliding his hands under her t-shirt. They were cold and she gasped against his lips.

Dean moaned, his kisses becoming more urgent, his tongue plunging into her mouth repeatedly. He swung her around, pressing her against the wall. Amie brought her hands up to grasp the back of his neck, dropping the book as she did. Dean paused long enough to look down at it, then grabbed her hands, pulled them away from his neck and held them above her head with one hand. With his other hand, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. He pushed his hips against her stomach, his erection obvious. He kissed her roughly, still holding her chin.

He moved his head until his lips were skimming her ear, the stubble on his chin scratching her cheek. "I don't think this is about love, it's about lust. This is because you're beautiful, you turn me on and you're a great lay. Not necessarily because I love you." He pushed himself away from her and walked away, staring at the ground as he did.

Dean's words stung so much it literally knocked the wind out of her. Amie leaned over, hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. She slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor, her elbows on her knees. The tears she'd been holding back finally came, blurring her vision. She reached for the book she'd dropped. When it had hit the floor, it had fallen open to the prophecy, a glaring reminder of the destiny they were supposed to follow.

* * *

She didn't know how long she sat on the cold floor, but it was long enough for her ass to fall asleep and her legs to start to feel numb. Once again, she'd cried until she was sure there wasn't even one tear left in her. She was sitting with her head in her hands when Sam wandered down the hallway. He smiled at her before crouching in front of her.

"Hi," he said. "How's it going?" He paused and then laughed. "Wait, on second thought, I know how it's going, if Dean's mood is any indication. Maybe I should ask you if you want me to kick his ass for you. I'd offer to kill him, but he is my brother, so…."

Amie tried to smile, though it was difficult. She had a horrible headache, she felt slightly nauseous and she was freezing from sitting on the floor.

Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I made you something to eat. Dean's in the garage, messing with the Impala. You won't even have to see him."

She followed Sam down the hall into the kitchen. He handed her a plate and a glass of beer. Amie leaned against the counter, sipping the beer. "Did he say anything to you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, but the look on his face was death. He just stormed through the library, obviously pissed off. What happened?"

Amie gave Sam a tight grin. "You don't want to know, trust me."

"Does it have anything to do with what Crowley told you?" Sam inquired.

She shook her head and quickly told him what the demon had said. Sam nodded along as she spoke. "I'll tell Kev, maybe it can help him find more information. Knowing the demons don't want it to happen might help him narrow things down." He took a drink of his own beer. "Hey, do you know why Dean is calling Cas every half hour or so?"

"No," she replied. "I have no idea." She finished her beer and took the last bite of her sandwich. "Is Castiel not answering?"

"No, and it's either pissing Dean off or making him worry. Or a combination of the two. I'll go talk to him," Sam said as he tossed his empty beer bottle in the trash. "Try to figure out why he wants to talk to talk to Cas and see if he's calmed down at all. Did you decide if you want me to kick his ass?" Sam gave her a cheeky grin and a wink.

Amie smiled at Sam. "No, not today anyway," she retorted. She shook her head as he left the room. While she appreciated that he was trying to lighten the mood, she wasn't sure it was helping. She hadn't felt this low since the death of her son and husband. It amazed her how just two days ago she had been happy and content and now she felt like shit. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Maybe it would help the horrible headache she had.

She finished up in the kitchen and made her way to her room. She grabbed a pair of warm sweatpants and one of Dean's t-shirts that she'd taken from his room, changed into them, and then crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over her head. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and go to sleep. The last two days had emotionally drained her of every ounce of energy she had. Couple that with the fact that she had gotten very little sleep and she was a walking zombie. She wrapped her arms around one of her pillows and hugged it close. She fell asleep wishing it was Dean she was next to rather than a cold pillow.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Dean's hand slipped as he was tightening the bolt, causing him to scrape it on something sharp inside the engine. He cursed as he yanked it back, scraping it again. He stood up and smacked his head on the hood. "God dammit!" he bellowed, throwing the tool in his hand to the floor.

"Well, I can see your mood hasn't improved any since I last saw you," Sam said as he walked up behind him.

"Fuck off, Sammy," he muttered. "I'm not in the mood. What do you want?"

Sam shrugged, not affected by his brother's attitude. "Why do you keep calling Cas? Are you checking up on him?" he asked, leaning against the Impala's fender.

"I was thinking he might know something about the prophecy. Or be able to get Katarina to open up about it," Dean explained. "Except he's not answering. I've been trying every half an hour or so for a while now, but nothing."

"I'm sure he's fine," Sam replied. "He'll call as soon as he gets a chance." He picked what Dean figured was imaginary lint off of his shirt sleeve, avoiding eye contact with his older brother. "So, what happened with you and Amie? I found her crying in the hallway."

Dean sighed. He'd figured that was the real reason Sam had sought him out. He wasn't even sure what had happened. One minute he was kissing her, wanting her so badly that he could feel it in every part of his body, and the next minute he was looking at the damn prophecy staring up at him from that stupid book. It had pissed him off and he'd turned around and taken it out on Amie. He hadn't meant what he said, but that really didn't matter now, because he'd said it and he couldn't take it back. He would have gone back to apologize, but he figured there wasn't anything he could do that would make it better. So he'd skulked away, hating himself more than usual. He'd come here to hide out—from Amie, from Sam, from the world.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered. "I'm not sure it's any of your business, anyway. It's between me and Amie and I would like to keep it that way."

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked. "Why are you being such a dick?"

"Seriously, Sam, don't start. Please just leave me alone," Dean implored.

"You just want me to leave you alone so you can wallow in your misery and feel sorry for yourself. Screw that," Sam retaliated. "I'm not gonna let you do either of those things. You're going to have to work through this, get over it and go back to being all googly-eyed over Amie. You're much easier to get along with when you're in love."

Dean wrapped a dirty rag around his bleeding hand and slammed the hood on the Impala closed. "Like I said a minute ago—fuck off. I don't feel sorry for myself and I'm not wallowing in anything. I'm dealing with it the best I can. The first thing I want to do is figure out the whole prophecy. One step at a time. I'm not even sure I should be around Amie until we do that. Not because I don't love her, but because we need to figure out what the paradox is and what can happen if it comes to fruition." Dean was getting angrier and angrier as he talked, the emotions overtaking him. "And you know what, Sam? Since you're so god damned concerned about it, I do love her. I love her so fucking much it hurts. Every time I open my stupid mouth and say something that hurts her, I want to kick my own ass. I can't stand what I did to her. Shit, what I'm _doing_ to her. She's the first thing that's made me feel alive in I don't know how long but supposedly I feel this way because some prophecy says I have to, because some cupid touched me and made it happen? That's bullshit. I am pissed off that I'm being led by my nose toward my 'destiny,' but god dammit if I was going to _have_ to fall in love with someone because the angels said I do, then I'm glad it's her." He stopped to take a breath, the speech he'd just made leaving him breathless and surprised.

Sam smirked at his older brother and patted Dean on the shoulder. "So would you please go tell her that?" he begged his brother. "She needs to hear that way more than I do." He crossed to the stairs and left Dean alone.

Dean watched Sam walk away. His damn brother knew exactly what buttons to push to get him to talk. He'd surprised himself with that little outburst. He hadn't realized he felt the way he did until Sam had pushed him into talking. He'd been so focused on being pissed about his forced destiny that he hadn't stopped to think about anything else. But it was true, all of it.

He needed to talk to Amie, tell her what he'd just told Sam. He stepped into the bathroom and washed his hands, then he found some old Band-Aids in the car's glove box and wrapped one around his scraped hand, hurrying so he could go talk to her.

He'd really screwed up, he knew it, but he wanted a chance to make things better. As he came around the corner, he saw that her door was closed. He knocked lightly, but she didn't answer. He tried the knob and for a split second he thought it would be locked to keep him out. He was relieved when it wasn't. The lights in the room were off when he opened the door, so he didn't say anything, but the light from the hallway allowed Dean to see Amie, curled up in her bed, asleep. She was wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, which made him smile; she must have taken it from his room. She was clutching a pillow, literally wrapped around it. Even in sleep, he could see the worry lines in her forehead. He knew he was responsible for those being there.

He stepped in, pushed the door closed behind him, then slipped off his boots and jeans. He crossed the room and carefully slid into the bed next to her. He pulled the pillow out of her arms and replaced it with himself, sliding his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. He pressed his lips against her forehead, reveling in the feel of her next to him. She stirred slightly, looking up at him.

"Dean?" she questioned, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Hey baby," he whispered. He pushed a strand of hair from her face, tracing her cheek with the back of his hand as he did. There were dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes and he could still the streaks on her face from the tears she'd cried. Guilt overwhelmed him as he realized he'd done that to her. "I'm sorry." He hugged her close, burying his face in her hair. "I love you."

Amie pressed herself against him, a sigh escaping her. "I love you, too," she breathed.

Dean felt a calm settle over him. This was right. No matter how it had started or why, being with Amie was what he wanted and needed. They could figure out the rest later. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

* * *

He came awake slowly, unsure at first where he was. Then he felt the warm body against him and remembered. He was in Amie's room, sleeping next to her. She was cuddled up against his side, her face buried against his arm. Dean slipped an arm around her waist, sliding it under her shirt, resting his hand on the small of her back. He kissed her shoulder, then moved up her neck to her jaw, then down again to the hollow of her neck. She shifted slightly, turning her head to squint up at him with one eye. He smiled down at her and kissed her temple.

"You're awake," he whispered.

Amie shook her head and turned her face back against his arm. Dean laughed and tightened his hold on her. He nuzzled her neck, knowing that the stubble on his chin was lightly scratching her and that it always drove her crazy. She giggled and squirmed, but rather than push him away, she snuggled closer, sliding one arm around his waist, the other grasping his shirt. She reciprocated by lightly trailing kisses up his neck, across his jaw, until she reached his mouth. Dean waited, but she had stopped.

He glanced at her, wondering why she was no longer kissing him. She was biting her lower lip, a worried expression on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Her voice was filled with apprehension when she finally spoke. "Yesterday when I kissed you, you…."

Dean stopped her before she could finish, pressing his lips against hers, desperate to show her how sorry he was for what had happened. "I'm sorry, baby, so sorry," he repeated several times as he kissed her, running his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her.

Amie rolled on her back, pulling Dean on top of her. She laced her fingers around the back of his neck, drawing him close to her. "Prove it," she whispered enticingly.

Dean felt himself stiffen in response, need coursing through him. He ran his tongue up her neck to her jaw until he reached her lips, then he pushed his tongue into her mouth as his hips pushed against her, mirroring what his tongue was doing. Amie arched her hips into his, the two of them grinding against each other, the friction they were creating exciting them both.

Dean groaned. He sat up, pulling her with him, so he could take her shirt off, then followed it with his own. He needed to feel her skin against his. Amie slipped her thumbs into her sweatpants, quickly pushing them off, then she pulled Dean's boxers off. He kicked them away before balancing himself on his forearms, hovering over her. He slid his knee between hers, pushing them apart, before settling himself between her legs. His erection brushed her warm center, twitching in anticipation. He groaned again, then took her breast in his mouth, his tongue teasing and massaging the erect nipple.

Amie moaned softly, grabbing the back of Dean's head, arching into his mouth. He responded by slithering down her body, raining kisses across her stomach and waist, one hand still grasping and kneading the soft flesh of her breast. He slipped the other hand between her legs, his thumb rubbing and caressing her most sensitive spot before he slid a finger inside her. Dean pushed himself down the bed until his head was resting between Amie's legs. Keeping his finger moving constantly, Dean ran his tongue along the soft folds of flesh, before slowly pushing it into her hot core, tasting her, consuming her. He put his other hand under her as her hips rose toward him, settling her right where he wanted her. He worked her with his mouth, pushing her closer and closer to the edge with every movement. Dean's own excitement grew alongside Amie's; his erection was throbbing with need. When he felt her muscles clenching, her orgasm close, he pulled her closer, his tongue, mouth and finger moving in concert to bring her to climax. Within minutes, her breathing sped up and her moans grew louder until she was crying out his name.

Dean couldn't wait any longer. He sat up on his knees, grabbed Amie's hips and with one quick thrust, he entered her, a moan escaping him as he did. He fell forward, pushing himself farther into her, one arm by her head to balance himself. He starting rocking slowly, Amie immediately moving in sync with him. Dean closed his eyes, relishing every movement, every touch. It felt like it had been forever since they had made love and he wanted to enjoy every second of it. He buried himself in Amie's warmth, thrusting over and over, harder and harder, the want and the need for her pushing him to claim her with his body. He brought her to climax repeatedly, holding himself back, not wanting the moment to end, until he finally he let go, driving into her one last time, a shudder working its way through him, a deep groan falling from his lips.

Afterward, they lay in the dark room, wrapped in each other's arms, exhausted but satisfied. Dean was absentmindedly rubbing Amie's back, enjoying the feel of her soft skin under his rough, callused hands. He felt like he needed to tell her how sorry he was, but the words wouldn't come.

"Talk to me Dean," Amie suddenly said, her voice seeming loud in the quiet room.

Dean chuckled. "How did you know?"

He felt her shrug as she lay against him. "I just knew," she replied. "You just apologized in pretty much the only way you know how. Quite well I might add. But that doesn't mean you don't have something to say."

God, she knew him so well. He didn't know what the hell he'd been doing, turning his back on her, hurting her like he had. He needed his head examined.

He took a deep breath before he started to speak. "I fucked up. I was pissed that once again my destiny was being decided for me. I couldn't see past that. It was the only thing I could focus on. I latched on to the idea of loving you not being real as an excuse. A way out, I guess."

"What? Please tell me you're joking?" Amie demanded. She propped herself up on one elbow, staring at him. Even in the dark Dean could see the anger on her face. "After all the shit we've gone through to get here, you were gonna cut and run, push me away, because a cupid brought us together to fulfill an angelic prophecy?"

"I'm know. I'm an idiot," he said. Before Amie could say anything else, he pushed her down on the bed and trapped her underneath him. He laced his fingers around her head, holding her so she had no choice but to look at him. "And I'm not pushing you away, not anymore. I realize now that none of it matters. I don't care that a cupid was involved. I've been attracted to you since the first time I laid eyes on you and I've wanted you for just as long. So the angels or what-the-hell-ever just gave me a push in the direction I wanted to go. They obviously know how god damn stubborn I am." Dean kissed her, long and hard. He rested his forehead against hers. "Forgive me?"

Amie nodded. "Yes, but don't do anything stupid for a couple of days, okay? My emotions need a break." She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a quick kiss. "Though I'm thinking you should show me just how sorry you are one more time."

Dean laughed, his head thrown back. "My pleasure," he murmured as he set to work.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Amie wrapped the rubber band around the bottom of the braid she'd just finished and stepped out of the bathroom, turning out the light as she did. Dean was lying in the bed, his arms behind his head, watching her. He hadn't said a word since she got out of bed, just followed her with his eyes as she'd moved around the room. She could still feel his eyes on her as she pulled clothes from her suitcase on the floor.

"Are you ever going to unpack?" he asked.

"I haven't unpacked anywhere in three years," she replied as she pulled on her jeans. "You know what it's like. Different motel every few days, living out of a suitcase. I guess I hadn't thought about it much, that this might be permanent." She sat on the floor to put on her socks, looking up at Dean as she did. He wasn't dressed, just lounging in the bed with the sheet pooled in his lap, completely unaware of how the way he was sitting emphasized his biceps or pulled his stomach muscles tight. Amie let her eyes drift up the length of his body, admiring the v shape just above the sheet, the six-pack of taut muscles, and his broad chest. When her eyes finally met his startling green ones, he was smirking.

"Like what you see?" he growled playfully.

Amie giggled as she pulled on her shirt and walked to the bed. She quickly straddled Dean, leaning over to kiss him. "Mm, yep," she whispered against his mouth.

Dean ran his hands up and down her jean clad thighs. "I have an idea," he said between kisses. "Since most of your stuff is still packed, why don't you take it and move it into my room? Then you can unpack it in there."

Amie sat up, taken aback by Dean's words. "Really?" she questioned. "You do realize that you are asking me to basically move in with you? Roommates. That's a commitment, you know that right?" She was only half joking when she said it.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure we'd be a little bit more than roommates. Look, I'm trying to be serious," he muttered. "And you're making fun of me."

She sighed, frustrated with how this conversation was going. "I'm not, really. I'm just surprised. You're not asking me this to prove some kind of a point, are you?" She started to roll off of him, but he grabbed her hips to hold her in place. Her heart was fluttering in her chest and she couldn't look Dean in the eye.

He sat up, setting her on the bed in front of him and taking her hands. "Amie, honey, look at me," he demanded, his voice calm and quiet.

She raised her eyes to look at him. He looked as cool as always. "I know this is stupid, since my room is just ten steps from yours, so asking you to move in with me is kind of pointless. Almost a joke. I'm not joking though. Our relationship is anything but conventional, so for us, you moving into my room is a commitment. I've been thinking about this for a while now and I want you with me all the time. I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep with you beside me every day. Can you understand? Or are you going to make me sit here and keep talking like an idiot?" He gave her a lopsided grin, the one she loved so much. "It's either that or I'll be in here all the time, like some kind of creepy stalker."

Amie laughed. She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him. "Okay," she conceded.

Dean laughed with her, pulling her down next to him on the bed. He started kissing her more intently, his hand sliding under shirt. Of course, Amie's phone chose that moment to ring. Dean groaned loudly as she pulled away to answer it. He pushed himself out of the bed and grabbed his clothes off the floor, then headed to the bathroom.

Amie watched him, admiring the view, before she picked up the phone without looking at the number of the incoming call. "Hello," she answered, all business.

"Amie? Is that you?" a very quiet, very terrified voice asked.

Amie was shocked to hear Katarina's voice. She had never expected to hear from her. When she had slipped the former angel her phone number before she got on the bus with Castiel, she hadn't thought she'd actually use it. She had figured that Castiel would be able to help Katarina far more than she ever could, but she hadn't wanted to completely turn her back on her.

"Katarina? Are you okay? What's wrong?" she asked. She immediately got off the bed and crossed to the bathroom, opening the door and gesturing for Dean to come out. He looked at her and mouthed 'what?'

Amie pointed at the phone, before covering it and quickly saying "It's Katarina." Dean followed her out of the bathroom, concern written in the lines of his face. She put it on speaker so he could hear what was being said.

"Castiel is gone. He left yesterday to try to find some angels to help us. I have not seen him or heard from him since. I did not know what else to do, so I called you." Katarina sounded close to tears.

Amie took a deep breath, glancing at Dean out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, it's all right. Tell me where you are," she instructed.

She spent the next few minutes on the phone, getting as much information out of Katarina as she could. She assured her they would get to her as soon as they could and made her promise to stay put.

She hung up the phone, immediately turning to Dean. He was pacing back and forth at the end of the bed, deep in concentration. "Alright Dean, what are we doing?" she finally asked.

"Pack up," he instructed. "I'll go get Sam and we'll head out." He started to leave, but stopped himself and came back. He kissed her, drawing it out, pulling her close against him. Then without saying a word, he left the room.

* * *

Amie slid her lock pick kit out of her jacket pocket as she approached the motel room door. She crouched in front of it and set to work, Dean standing behind her, attempting to block the view of anyone who might look their way. It only took her a few seconds to pop the lock on the cheap door. She opened it and they quickly slipped inside.

The room was extremely clean; no clothes were thrown around and the beds were neatly made. Two suitcases lay open, one by each bed, the clothes inside folded and organized. One obviously belonged to a woman and the other a man. Without speaking, Dean and Amie separated and began searching.

Amie kept an eye on Dean, trying to gauge his mood. She'd expected him to be more upset about Castiel being gone, but he'd seemed to take it in stride. There had been no angry outbursts or impatient tirades. Even after they had arrived in Parkersburg to find Katarina also missing, Dean had remained calm. She kept expecting him to blow up at any second, but so far he'd been fine.

Now they were trying to figure out not only what had happened to Castiel, but also what had happened Katarina. She was not at the motel where she said she would be and they could not find any indication as to where she had gone. Sam had talked to the manager and found out that they had checked in, what room they were in and that they had never checked out. That was why she and Dean were now here, looking around.

Amie rifled through the two suitcases, but they were completely devoid of anything, in particular items of a personal nature. She moved on to the bedside table, hoping there might be something in one of the drawers or on the pad of paper next to the phone. When she still didn't find anything useful, Amie dropped to her hands and knees to check under the beds. If her father had taught her anything, it was to always be thorough in everything she did. As usual, it paid off. There was a torn slip of paper under the bed, half hidden behind the dangling bedspread. She reached under the bed to grab it, then sat up.

Dean stooped down in front of her, a hand out to help her up. He pulled her to her feet and she handed him the slip of paper. "Found this," she said, smiling.

"It's a phone number and an address," Dean said as he read the paper. He pulled his phone from his pocket and entered the address. "It's a residential address, on the other side of town." He tucked his phone back into his front pocket. "Let's go get Sam and then check it out."

Sam was buttoning his dress shirt when they walked into their room. "What's up?" Amie asked.

"I just got off the phone with the sheriff's department. Four days ago they found two people dead, their eyes burned out. I'm going to look over the police reports," Sam explained.

Dean showed Sam the slip of paper. "We found a phone number and address for a place on the other side of town. We were going to go check it out. Unless you want one of us to go with you?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm good. Why don't you drop me off at the station on the way? We can probably get more accomplished if we separate anyway." He finished tying his tie and grabbed his suit jacket. "You two just have to behave yourselves while you're out, okay?"

Dean grinned at Sam. "No promises, Sammy, no promises."

Amie punched Dean on the shoulder. "We will behave," she promised. "We're working, right?" Dean just winked at her and Sam rolled his eyes.

Once they were in the car on their way to the police station, Dean became all business, asking Sam a multitude of questions about the bodies that had been found and giving him instructions regarding any information he gathered while at the sheriff's office. Amie could tell that Sam was humoring Dean, placating him by agreeing to everything he said. She knew once he got to the station, alone, he would do his own thing. It wasn't always how Dean thought it should be done, but it worked for Sam and usually his brother was none the wiser.

Dean parked in an empty spot outside the courthouse. "Let me know what you find out," he instructed. "I'll call or text you once we know anything about this address." Sam nodded and climbed out of the Impala, waving as he shut the door.

Amie clamored over the seat to sit next to Dean, directing him using the GPS on her phone, his hand resting on her leg as he drove. She double-checked the address several times as they drove deeper into a wooded area north of town. When they pulled onto a barely used dirt road, Dean looked over at the phone screen. Amie tilted it so he could see it.

"It's the right direction. Looks like it's in the middle of nowhere," she explained.

"More like bum-fucking Egypt if you ask me," he muttered.

They drove two or three miles along the dirt road before coming over a rise to see a small house set back behind a white picket fence. Two large oak trees grew in the front yard, a rope swing hanging from one of them. It appeared to be unoccupied. There were weeds growing up beside the porch, the paint was chipped, the roof had missing shingles and the flowers in the flower bed were choked by grass and weeds, dying. Dean drove past it about two hundred yards before finding a small turn-off where he could park the Impala. He backed in so they could see the house from the front seat.

"This is the address. What should we do?" Amie asked. "Sit here and wait?"

"I guess it's as good an idea as any," he replied. "We're at a loss for anything else, we don't have any other leads, at least not until Sam finds something. _If_ he finds anything. We'll sit here for a while, see if anyone shows up. If they don't, we'll go back to town." Dean shut off the Impala's engine and settled himself deeper into the seat, squeezing her leg. He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and sent a quick text message, presumably to Sam.

Amie crossed her arms and leaned her head against Dean's arm. "It's almost dark, we won't be able to see for much longer," she commented.

"And no one will be able to see us," Dean shot back. "If anyone does show up, we may have the element of surprise."

After less than an hour, the sun had set so much that Amie could barely make out the outline of the small house. There were no street lights in 'bum-fucking Egypt' so the only way they would know if someone approached the house was if they used a light when they did. Dean had been quiet for so long that she was pretty sure he was asleep. She sat up, stretching as she squinted at the house, hoping to make out anything. She was starting to think this was a dead end. Maybe she could convince Dean it was time to head back to town.

She turned around to face him, thinking she would have to wake him up. Instead, she saw that he was watching her intently, his brilliant green eyes taking in every move she made. When they made eye contact, his tongue slipped out of his mouth and slowly licked his lips. Amie couldn't take her eyes off of it. Without thinking, she leaned forward and captured his lower lip between her teeth, lightly nipping him, before caressing his lip with her tongue. Dean slid a hand under the bottom edge of her shirt, resting it on the bare flesh above the waistband of her jeans. Amie felt goose bumps rising on her skin where he touched her. She deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding slowly into his mouth. Dean put his other hand on her waist, looping a finger through one of her belt loops, using it to pull her closer.

Amie dropped a hand to Dean's lap, rubbing and cupping him through his jeans. He jerked his hips forward slightly, causing her hand to push against his growing erection. He moaned quietly, almost like he was trying to hold it back. Encouraged by his response, she used one hand to unbutton and unzip his pants, then she slowly reached into his underwear, grasping him firmly. This time, Dean's moan was louder and more definitive. She sat up on her knees, facing him fully. Without dropping her gaze from his, she pulled him free of the restraints of his jeans, running her hand up and down his shaft, her fingers brushing the sensitive sac below it. She watched Dean's eyes widen with each pull, his breathing speeding up. She leaned forward and kissed him before dropping her head to take him into her mouth. She moved slowly, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head, then licking him from base to tip. She felt Dean wrap a hand in her hair and push slightly. Amie gripped him tightly at the base and slid him into her mouth, opening her throat to take in as much as she could. Dean's hips leapt up, pushing himself farther into her mouth as a long, guttural groan escaped his lips. Thrilled that Dean was so obviously enjoying himself, Amie continued to slide her mouth up and down his erection, sucking and pulling, her own excitement growing as she brought him closer to climax. She could feel Dean's breath quickening and his thigh muscles tightening, along with his grip on her hair. Her jeans were beginning to rub not-so-uncomfortably against her and her panties were soaked through. She was aching to have Dean inside her.

As if he'd read her mind, he tugged on her hair, bringing her head up so she would look at him. He grabbed her chin, bringing her ear to his lips.

"Get in the back. Now," he ordered.

Amie obliged, breathlessly. She quickly climbed into the back seat, shedding her jacket, shirt and bra as she did. She heard the doors of the Impala open and close as she shimmied out of her jeans and underwear. Then Dean, his clothes gone, was sliding into the car, stretching out across the seat and pulling her on top of him. He grabbed her, pulling her lips to his and kissing her roughly as he quickly slid two fingers inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit until she was panting in anticipation.

"Baby, I need to be inside you," Dean moaned.

Amie took Dean in her hand and positioned him until she was able to slide herself down his shaft, inch by glorious inch, taking her time, letting him fill her slowly. He sighed as she began to move, rocking back and forth, his hands on her hips. Dean sat up and wrapped his arms around her back, holding her in place, pushing himself deeper into her. She trembled uncontrollably as the first orgasm shot through her. Dean began thrusting into her repeatedly at a relentless pace, his mouth biting and sucking at her neck. He grabbed her breast, twisting and pulling at the nipple until it stood erect. Amie moaned and dug her nails into Dean's back, leaving long scratches. When she felt the second orgasm coming, her muscles tightening, she buried her face against his shoulder, shuddering as she came again. Dean pulled her tight against him, his hand sliding down to tightly grip her ass. He thrust once, then twice, a low groan leaving his mouth as her warm, wet core engulfed him completely and he finally came.

Dean kissed her deeply and slowly, holding her close against him. He nuzzled her neck, laughing low in his throat.

"Hm?" she mumbled. "What's so funny?"

He ran his hands up and down her back. "I've always wanted to make love to you in my car," he murmured as he kissed her neck. She sighed, loving the feel of him touching her. "I'm also pretty sure we did not behave ourselves like Sam instructed," he added. He kissed her on the forehead.

Amie giggled and moved off of Dean, grabbing her clothes. Dean reached into the front seat, where he'd left his jeans, dragging them over the seat and putting them on. He pushed open the back door and stepped out in his bare feet as she put on her underwear and t-shirt. She heard a loud grunt and a thud outside the open door of the car.

"Dean?" she called. When he didn't answer, she quickly put on her jeans and boots and stepped out of the car. Amie didn't see him anywhere, which was ridiculous, he hadn't had on shoes or a shirt when he'd gotten out, so he wouldn't have wandered off. As she started walking toward the front of the Impala, she noticed Dean's bare feet and jean clad legs on the ground by the front tire. Her heart jumped into her throat and she broke out in a cold sweat. Before she could react further, she felt, rather than saw a presence move behind her. She swung around, catching only a glimpse of a man with dark hair and a beard. Suddenly a fist flew towards her face, connecting with her jaw and laying her out flat. She hit the ground, her teeth rattling as the back of her head connected with the packed dirt road. Pain shot through her as she struggled to stay conscious. The last thing she saw before she passed out was the face of the man who had punched her as he leaned over her.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six **

Dean felt a cold breeze blowing across the bare skin of his back. He tried to remember where he was and how he got there. He could hear his phone, the faint sound of Zep's Ramble On signaling an incoming call. He opened his eyes and found himself looking right at Baby's front tire.

"Shit" he muttered. He pulled himself to his hands and knees, dizziness washing over him. "Amie?" he called. She didn't answer. He needed to make sure she was okay, that she hadn't been hurt. His hands clenched in the dirt and rocks as he struggled to get to his feet. He planted one hand on the Impala's bumper, using it to push himself to a standing position.

He put a hand to the back of his head, wincing when his fingers touched a huge bump. He tried to recall what had happened. He remembered getting out of the car, then something had hit him from behind. He had stumbled forward before falling to the ground and passing out.

But more important than what had happened to him was what had happened to Amie. He needed to make sure she was alright. Using the car to keep himself steady, Dean hurried to the open back door. She was gone.

"God dammit," he swore. He yanked open the driver's side door and grabbed his jacket, trying to find his phone. When he finally found it, he saw that he'd missed several calls from Sam. He tossed it back in the car, not worried about calls from his brother at the moment. Instead, he put on his t-shirt before sitting on the edge of the seat to put on his boots.

Dean grabbed his gun and flashlight, intent on checking out the house. He didn't care that it looked deserted or that he was alone with no one to back him up; if there was even a slim chance that Amie was in there, then he needed to get inside. He put on his jacket and tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans. Clicking on his flashlight, he hurried down the dirt road to the small house. There were still no lights on in the house and it still appeared deserted.

He stepped onto the tiny porch attached to the front of the house. He was in no mood to be subtle. He decided to use the large work boots he wore to his advantage, so he kicked open the front door. He waited several seconds, when he didn't hear anything, he stepped inside, gun drawn.

It only took him a few minutes to search every room of the small house. It was empty. Dean's frustration level was growing with each passing minute and it was taking every ounce of self-control he had to not go ballistic. He hurried out the front door and made a quick sweep of the yard and the woods around it, hoping against hope that he would find Amie or at least something that would lead him to where she was. But there was nothing.

Once he had searched everything he could possibly search, he went back to the Impala. He threw himself into the front seat and jammed the key into the ignition. He was torn, unsure of what to do. Amie was obviously gone, but since this was the last place he had seen her, he didn't want to leave. He rested his elbows on Baby's steering wheel, then placed his head in his hands, almost, but not quite, praying that she was safe.

When his phone rang, he scrambled to pick it up, before he realized it wasn't Amie's ringtone. "Yeah," he answered, disappoint in his voice.

"Dean, where the hell have you been?" Sam bellowed. "I've been trying to reach you for over an hour."

"Don't bite my head off," he snapped back. "I'm pissed off enough as it is." He quickly explained what had happened, leaving out only the part about him and Amie having sex in the Impala.

"You need to come back to the motel, Dean," Sam said. "Now. It's important."

"Seriously," he snorted. "Did you hear anything I just said? I need to find Amie, not come talk to you about something you consider important. She's what's important."

Sam sighed. "Just come back, I don't want to explain over the phone. And it should help us find her."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Dean muttered as he started the car. Reluctantly, he drove away from the small house, rocks flying out behind the car as his speed increased. He made it back to the motel in ten minutes, not fifteen. All he could think about was Amie and how whatever it was Sam had to say damn well better be important. This was taking away valuable time from finding her.

Dean parked Baby in the spot in front of their room and hurried to the door. He slammed it open, ready to give Sam an earful. He was shocked to see Cas sitting at the end of one of the beds.

"What the fuck, Cas?" Dean shouted. "Where the hell have you been?"

Castiel looked uncomfortable. "Dean…" he started to say.

"Wait a minute, will ya? We were out looking for you, and while we were doing that, Amie disappeared. She's gone, Cas, gone. Do you understand that? My girlfriend is gone and I want to know where the fuck she is!" Dean was screaming by the time he finished.

"It was a set-up," Sam said from the other side of the room. "You two were lured out there so they could take Amie."

Dean swung around to look at his brother. "What did you say?" he whispered. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

Castiel stepped forward. "Dean, please, let me explain." He looked at Sam, who encouraged him with a nod.

"I prayed for help, hoping an angel that wasn't working with Bartholomew would come. An angel named Muriel came, but unfortunately, so did Theo. He took me to Malachi, an angel who is amassing an army equal to Bartholomew's. Malachi tortured me, trying to get information. Then he killed Muriel, as payback for the multitude of angel deaths he believes I am responsible for. He left me with Theo, who was supposed to kill me. Theo asked me a lot of questions, most of them about you and Amie. He also asked for my help in convincing Metatron to take him in. I told him I would help him so he would let me go. Then I…well…. It is because of him I have had my grace returned." Castiel paused, a strange look on his face.

"Wait, you've got your mojo back?" Dean asked, confused.

Cas nodded and continued. "I found out that they took Katarina and used her to call Amie, to convince you to come here. Then they planted information for you to find in order to get you in a position where they could take her. They only had to wait for the opportune time to do it. Obviously they found it. They are trying to make sure the prophecy is fulfilled."

"You know about that?" Dean said.

"I do. I've heard it before. Some angels believe that the paradox you two create, if it comes to be, can be used as a powerful weapon against not only demons, but angels as well," Castiel explained.

Dean took a deep breath. "Do you know what the paradox is?" he inquired, part of him desperate to know the answer, another part of him not so sure he wanted to know.

Castiel nodded again. "It's a child, Dean. A child belonging to you and Amie."

* * *

Dean's head was spinning and it wasn't from the bump he'd gotten earlier. He leaned over, his elbows on his knees, trying to breathe. Sam was kneeling next to him, watching him, concern written all over his face.

"Are you okay?" he inquired of his older brother.

Dean almost laughed. Right now he wasn't sure he would be okay ever again. He'd just found out that he was probably going to be a father and oh, yeah, his child was going to be a weapon to be used against angels and demons alike. And for some reason, a group of angels had taken the mother of that child to do god-knows-what to her to ensure that it happened. It was a lot to take in.

The three of them sat in silence for several minutes, Dean trying to come to terms with what he had just learned, while Sam and Castiel patiently waited.

Dean finally sat up straight in the chair he was in. He'd worry about the stupid prophecy later. Finding Amie was what mattered. "Okay, we know they won't seriously hurt her, right? She can't have a baby if she's dead. So, we need to figure out where they took her and go get her." He looked at his best friend and brother. "Any ideas?"

Castiel seemed to stand taller. "She may be at the same place they were holding me. Malachi left and whatever he was going to do was apparently quite important. I did not have a chance to explore. I can go back and see if she is there."

"Do it," Dean instructed. "And hurry."

Cas was gone in the blink of an eye. Sam turned to his brother after he left. "Seriously, Dean, are you okay?"

Dean stood up, shaking his shoulders, trying to release some tension. "I honestly don't know. I think so." He started pacing back and forth across the room, checking his watch every couple of minutes. "I just want her back, safe. We can figure out the rest later." He sounded like a broken record to himself—figure it out later, figure it out later. Unfortunately, later would eventually come and then they would have a lot to deal with. But for now, all of that would have to wait.

Cas reappeared in the room, looking slightly flustered. "I found her. We need to go now. I won't be able to get her out alone, she is injured and most likely very ill. We will have to take the car."

"How bad is it?" Dean asked. He could hear the fear in his voice.

"You will see for yourself," he replied. "But it's bad."

The tone of Castiel's voice got the boys moving. They quickly gathered everything they thought they might need. Dean felt like he was in desperation mode. Cas's words had terrified him. He tossed the keys to Sam, who caught them with a confused look on his face. Dean just shook his head, not able to speak. He wasn't sure he could drive with his nerves on edge.

The drive to where Amie was being held took less than ten minutes. Castiel sat in the backseat, unmoving, occasionally giving Sam directions. Dean sat up front, his left leg jumping up and down, either with nerves or impatience, he wasn't sure which. He needed to calm down, needed to focus so he could get Amie out safely. Castiel finally signaled for Sam to park, just outside of a large church.

"There are tunnels beneath the church that have been there for a couple of hundred years, dating back to the Civil War. That's where the angels are holding Amie," Castiel explained. "We can go in through there." He pointed to the side of the building where Dean saw a cellar entrance.

He pushed open the door, checking his weapons as he did. He hurried to the closed cellar doors, Sam and Cas close behind. Castiel pushed in front of him to unlock the doors, the lock sliding off like warm butter off of a hot knife. Dean and Sam each grabbed a door and pulled it open, then followed the angel down the stairs. Dean couldn't help but think how it was nice to have Cas back in angel mode.

They moved down a long, dimly lit hallway until they reached another set of stairs that spiraled down into darkness. Cas stopped and turned to the boys. "She is down there. She is in the last room at the end of the tunnel. When I was here before, Malachi was there, as well as three other angels."

Dean started to push past him, anxious to get to Amie. Castiel put a hand on his arm.

"I will go first. And Dean, you must focus. You will not like what you see in that room. But if you want to save her, we must get past the angels first. Do you understand?" He waited for Dean to answer.

Dean reluctantly nodded his head. He closed his eyes trying to clear his head. He pushed everything else away, like his father had always taught him to, and focused on the job. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. "I'm good," he said.

As he said he would, Castiel took the lead, taking the boys down the stairs until they reached a tunnel with a dirt floor. They moved silently toward the room Amie was supposedly in, stopping at each door to look in. About a third of the way down, Sam gestured for Dean and pointed into one of the rooms.

"Cas?" Dean whispered. The angel turned around and came back to where they were standing. Dean pointed into the same room that Sam had shown him. He saw a noticeable shift in Cas's face, anger, pain and sorrow colliding at once. Castiel stepped inside and crossed to the prone figure twisted on the floor. Sam and Dean stepped in behind him.

"Is it her?" Sam asked.

Castiel stood up, nodding as he did. "It is Katarina." He shrugged his shoulders, as if he was adjusting his ever-present trench coat, but Dean knew it was because he was upset. "She is dead." He pulled the front of his coat together and ran his hands over it, attempting to straighten the wrinkles. He pushed past the boys, back into the hallway, his face hard. Dean could sense the anger coming off of him in waves and he was glad he wouldn't be on the receiving end of it.

They stopped outside of a room at the end of the hall, its door open slightly. Dean couldn't see anything from his position behind Cas, but he could hear movement in the room and low voices.

"How much longer, Malachi?" a quiet voice asked.

A more authoritative voice answered. "A few more minutes. Then, we just need to kill her and bring her back one last time, just to make sure. After that, we can dump her somewhere so that the Winchesters will find her." Footsteps approached the door, before pausing. "And kill that abomination, I can't stand having it here."

The door opened and the angel named Malachi stepped into the hallway, face to face with Castiel. He immediately backed away, moving into the room as he attempted to get away from the angry angel. Cas stalked into the room, Dean and Sam ducking in behind him, angel blades drawn.

Dean's eyes shot around the room, looking for Amie. She was lying on a low cot against the back wall, unconscious. She had an IV tube attached to her left arm that connected her to another smaller woman seated in a chair a foot or so away. Her right arm also had an IV coming from it. That one was connected to a young man sitting in a chair next to her head. He watched Dean carefully, his hand poised over the tubing, as if preparing to remove it. Dean slid along the edge of the wall to his left, keeping Castiel in front of him. Sam moved to the right.

There were three other angels in the room, including Malachi. They were gathered in a loose triangle in the center of the room. "Castiel, I see you have returned to your former glory," Malachi observed. "No doubt thanks to Theo."

"Give us the woman," Castiel ordered.

"We're almost done with her. Then she's all yours." Malachi shifted slightly, gesturing to the man seated next to Amie. "Jeremiah, finish it."

Before Dean could move, Jeremiah yanked the tube from his arm and stood over Amie, an angel blade in his raised hand. He brought it down directly into Amie's chest. Then he was gone.

"No!" Dean yelled as Amie jerked into consciousness, screaming. Her eyes met his and he could see the light fading out of the brilliant blue of hers.

"Heal her, Castiel, before she dies," Malachi instructed. He dropped a wink at the angel. "You can help us bring the prophecy to life." He turned and nodded to the other angels. Without another word, they disappeared.

Dean dropped his blade and ran across the room to Amie. He slid to his knees on the floor next to her, gathering her in his arms. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, and blood was pouring out of the wound in her chest and running down her chin from her mouth. He yanked the needles connected to the IV tubes out of both of her arms. Blood ran from them and pooled on the floor under the cot.

"Cas!" he screamed.

Amie was looking at him, tears running down her face. She tried to talk, but no sound came out of her. She coughed weakly, her blood splattering him. Dean put his hand on her cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. "Hey baby. It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Don't worry, Cas'll heal you, I promise," he whispered.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Castiel was standing next to him. "Pull out the blade, Dean."

He laid her back down on the cot and used both hands to yank the blade from her chest. Amie screamed again, blood flying, her back arching off of the cot before she collapsed and passed out. Dean scooped her up and sat on the cot, resting her head on his lap. He looked up at Cas and nodded.

Castiel laid a hand on Amie's chest, light flowing from him into her. Dean could see the wounds healing as the light moved through her. When Castiel finished he stepped back, but he was shaking his head.

"What is it?" Dean questioned the angel. "What's wrong?"

"I healed her wounds, but something is still wrong," Castiel explained.

"Dean, look at this," Sam said. He was crouched on the floor next to the woman tied to the chair. Dean looked where his brother pointed. "It's a devil's trap. I think she's a demon." He touched a finger to the blood that had run from the IV tube, then he put it in his mouth. "That's demon's blood," he stated.

Dean looked at his brother. "Are you sure?" Sam nodded.

"That's what wrong," Castiel announced. "I can't do anything about the demon blood in her system." He crouched on the floor on the other side of the cot and picked up the tubing, touching the blood coming from it. "This is angel blood. They must have pumped it directly into her bloodstream."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Dean demanded. "What the fuck were they trying to accomplish?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't know, but whatever it was, they believe it was helping to further the prophecy. It has something to do with the child."

"Is she pregnant? Can you tell?" Dean asked quietly.

"She isn't. Not yet," Castiel replied.

Dean nodded. His heart was racing and he was more scared than he had been in a long time. He knew what demon blood did to a person, he'd seen it first hand with Sam. He didn't want to watch Amie go through anything close to what he'd had to watch his brother go through. The angel blood threw an entirely different monkey wrench into the whole thing. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the combination of the two in her system would do.

"We need to go," he demanded. "Get her out of here."

"Wait," Sam spoke up. "We need to help her." He pointed to the petite brunette in the devil's trap.

Dean rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for Sam's goody two-shoes attitude right now. "No, you don't have…," he started to say.

Sam interrupted him. "Yes, I do. I'll stay here with her, try to exorcise the demon. Take Amie, go back to the motel. I'll come when I'm done."

"I don't want to leave you here alone," Dean protested.

Castiel spoke up. "I'll stay and help him. Go, take her back to the motel."

Dean looked between his brother and his best friend, then down at the woman he loved. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. He was torn, but Amie's pale face and limp body made his decision for him. He stood up and gathered her into his arms. She didn't move, even an inch. Her skin was cold to the touch and her breathing was shallower than he liked.

"Alright, do it. But you two better make it quick. If I have to come looking for you, you won't like it." Dean muttered as he left the room. Castiel followed him, staying with him until he had Amie in the car. He nodded his thanks to the angel as he got in and drove away from the church.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Blood. There was blood. And pain. She felt pain, moving through every part of her body. Sometimes there was white noise, drowning out every sound, human and inhuman, even the screams. Other times, she could hear everything, every sound imaginable. She heard voices, but not the voice she wanted to hear. She kept seeing a white light, bright, almost blinding. Each time she tried to step into the light she was dragged back, air flooding her lungs, her heartbeat restored._

_First came the pain, then the white light, then the brutal reawakening. Over and over until she didn't think she could handle anymore. The final time the pain came, it was so excruciating that she was forced awake. That was when she saw Dean, saw the terror in his eyes. No, her mind protested, he couldn't see this. It would tear him apart. Then he was there, next to her, holding her. She tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Then the pain came again, so unbearable that she let herself slip away, turning to the white light. She prayed that this time, it would let her stay._

Screams, all she heard were screams. Ear-splitting agonizingly painful screams torn from a tortured soul with no hope of respite. The hunter in her wanted to help the screamer, but another part of her, a part she didn't recognize, was enjoying the screams, thriving on them, feeding off of them. She tossed and turned where she lay, trying to cover her ears, trying to block out the sounds of the screamer. Strong hands grasped her wrists, trying to pull them away from her ears.

She yanked away, her skin burning in pain as she did. The screams continued, but this time when she covered her ears, the sudden echo made her realize that the screams were coming from _her_. Confused, she swallowed back another one, her raw throat aching. She hitched in a desperate breath. Her hands shook and tears fell from her eyes. She needed to stop.

Muscular arms wrapped themselves around her, but every touch felt like fire against her skin, so she fought against them, thrashing and kicking. She felt soft lips against her forehead and heard quiet murmurings from a low, raspy voice. She stopped, listening.

"I'm here, baby, I'm right here," she heard the voice whisper. It was familiar, she recognized it and somehow, she knew that it was safe. She relaxed and let the owner of the voice hold her, soothing her, calming her down. The white light washed over her again and she slept.

* * *

"What the hell, Sam? Why did you bring her here?" Amie could hear Dean talking to his brother, even though it was obvious he was trying to be quiet.

"She doesn't have anywhere to go. She has no one. She was possessed by a demon, taken by angels and her parents were killed by the damn angels. She's scared and right now, I'm the only person she trusts," she heard Sam reply. "She's staying here. Get over it!"

Amie shifted slightly on the bed, the rough motel sheets scratching at her skin. The boys were arguing and she should step in, play referee like she always did, find out who this "she" they were discussing was. She tried to sit up, but she felt out of whack, off-kilter for some reason.

"Shit," she heard Dean mumble, then the distinct clunk of his boots as he crossed the room. The bed dipped as he sat next to her, his arm sliding around her back. "Hey baby," he said, kissing her forehead.

"What is going on?" she asked. Her voice cracked as she spoke and she couldn't get any louder than a faint whisper. Her throat ached like she'd been yelling for days. She gestured for the water bottle she saw on the table behind Dean.

He handed it to her and helped her sit up all the way. She took a couple of deep breaths trying to keep the nausea she felt at bay. She took several small sips of the water before setting it between her legs.

"Do you remember what happened?" Dean asked.

Amie tried to work her way back, sorting memories from dreams and hallucinations. Unfortunately, she wasn't completely sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I remember you and me in the Impala, getting knocked out, angels, and a white light. It was dark, like no daylight dark, like maybe we were underground or something. I thought I saw you, but I can't remember for sure. I remember pain and blood," she recalled. She drank some more water, trying to ease the burn in her throat. "That's it, that's all I remember."

She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but it was filthy and knotted. "I need a shower," she grimaced.

"Yeah, as soon as our guest comes out of the bathroom," Dean muttered unhappily.

Sam shot a glare at him from the other side of the room, where he stood by the bathroom door.

"We have a guest?" Amie whispered.

Just then a short brunette came out of the bathroom. She was only a couple of inches shorter than Amie, but she was at least a foot shorter than Sam. Her dark brown hair fell to her waist and she had big, brown eyes. She stared around the room, looking like a lost child. She kept herself behind Sam, one hand gripping his arm.

"Amie, this is Shannon," Sam said, taking the woman's hand and pulling her out from behind him. "Shannon, that's Amie. She's my brother's girlfriend." Shannon looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Sam smiled at her. "I know it's hard to believe that someone that grouchy could have a girlfriend, but it's true. She's cool, I promise."

Amie tried to smile at the young woman, but she feared it came off as more of a grimace. Dean stood up and put his arms under her legs and around her back. He picked her up like she weighed nothing. He stomped past Sam and Shannon into the bathroom and kicked the door closed. He set her on the closed toilet and moved to turn on the water in the shower. Before he could, Amie grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn and look at her.

"You were being rude," she stated, her voice still not above a whisper. She pulled him down so they were face to face. "What's going on?"

"You don't remember her at all?" Dean asked.

When Amie shook her head, he proceeded to tell her everything that had happened under the church—how they had found her, the things that had been done to her, Shannon's part in it and how Castiel had healed her. She didn't remember any of it.

"But, why?" she inquired. "I don't understand what the angels were trying to accomplish."

Dean hesitated, but Amie could tell by the look on his face and his obvious reluctance to speak that he knew something. She squeezed his hand. "Tell me," she demanded.

"Cas knows about the prophecy. He knows what the paradox is and he thinks that you were taken in an effort to make sure it happens," Dean explained. He rubbed a hand over his face, watching Amie. She didn't say anything. She knew if she waited, he would tell her.

Dean blew out a long breath. "The paradox we create, the one the prophecy is predicting, well, it's a baby. One belonging to you and me."

Amie had read books and seen movies in which people were so stunned they were speechless or their mouths dropped open, but she hadn't actually thought it was possible. Not until it happened to her anyway. She felt her mouth fall open and she literally had nothing to say. Her mind was blank as she tried to process what Dean had said.

Dean stood up, attempting to pace in the small bathroom. When it didn't work, he stopped and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned against the bathroom sink, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, a baby. I'm the father, you're the mother. Hence, we create it. Or him, or her." He sighed audibly. "Whatever."

Several minutes passed as Amie sat staring into space, unable to put her thoughts into words. Dean watched her, impatiently tapping his fingers against his arm and fidgeting. When he obviously couldn't stand the silence any longer, he crouched in front of her again and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"Amie, honey, say something," he begged.

She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "I need a shower. Help me, will you?" she said. "I'm still feeling a little out of it."

Dean nodded and stood up. He turned the shower on, then turned back to Amie. He helped her out of her clothes, then pulled his own off. He carefully lifted her into the shower, then stepped in behind her. Amie managed to clean herself up, with Dean there to keep her from falling over. She wasn't sure 'out of it' was a completely accurate description of how she really felt. She was fluctuating between feeling dizzy and feeling perfectly normal. It seemed to switch gears so quickly that she couldn't predict from second to second how she was going to feel. Her skin seemed extremely sensitive as well—the water stung as it hit her, the sheets on the bed had felt too rough, and earlier when Dean had touched her it had felt like she was on fire. Also, her emotions were all over the place. She wanted to laugh, cry, or scream in anger, all at once, with no provocation.

When she was finished, she leaned against Dean, suddenly exhausted. He reached behind her and turned off the water, then he wrapped a towel around her. She dried herself off carefully, mindful of her overly sensitive skin. Dean dried himself off and pulled on his jeans before lifting her out of the shower and helping her sit down again.

"I'll grab you some clothes," he said as he pulled open the bathroom door.

While she waited for Dean, she used the brush she found on the counter to comb out her wet hair and put it in a braid. By the time she was done, he was back with her shorts and one of his t-shirts for her to wear. She grinned as she took it from him.

"This isn't mine," she pointed out. "Did I mysteriously run out of clothes?"

He laughed and kissed her on the end of her nose. "Nope, I just like it when you wear my stuff." He took her hand and opened the door. "Come on, let's get to know Sam's new friend."

* * *

Shannon was young, really young. She was only twenty-five, about five years younger than Sam, which made her nine years younger than Dean. And since Amie was older than Dean, that made her about thirteen years older than Shannon.

"I feel old," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," Shannon said. "What did you say?"

Amie laughed. "Sorry, I said I feel old. It's been a long time since I was as young as you."

Shannon blushed and looked away, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket that was covering her lap. Ever since Sam had left with Dean to get food, she'd been huddled in the corner of the couch, watching the door. Amie had been trying to talk to her, but she felt like she wasn't getting anywhere. She decided to try another tactic.

She stood up carefully—her balance was still wacky—and crossed to the couch. She sat in the opposite corner from Shannon, her feet curled under her. She set her gun and angel blade on the scratched coffee table. Shannon eyed them warily.

"Sorry," Amie said quietly. "I promised Dean I'd keep them close while he was gone." She watched the young woman out of the corner of her eye. "Have you ever fired a gun?"

Shannon shook her head vehemently. "I've never even touched one. I don't know anything about guns or knives or stuff like that. Only what I've read in books. I'm a librarian, I read a lot," she explained, somewhat defensively. She sat up a little straighter, tucking the blanket around her legs.

"I was a teacher," Amie offered. "For about, hmmm, six or seven years I guess. I loved it. I miss it sometimes."

"Really? You were a teacher?' Shannon asked. "So how did you end up doing this?" She gestured around the room as she spoke.

"I grew up in the life. My father was a hunter—that's what we're called, by the way. Only we don't hunt normal things. I left the life when I was in my late teens, but after my husband and son were killed, I came back so I could hunt the monster that killed them. That was three years ago," Amie explained. "You've probably figured out that the things that go bump in the night, well, they're real. And the boys and I, that's what we hunt."

"Have long have you known Sam and Dean?" Shannon inquired. "Have you and Dean been together for a long time?"

Amie laughed. "I've known the boys for a couple of years. But Dean and I, we've only been together a couple of months, I guess. Not long."

Shannon smiled. "Wow, I would have guessed longer. You two seem so right together, so in sync with each other, it's like you've been together forever."

"Like we're destined to be together, right?" Amie joked, though she didn't find it funny. She decided they needed to talk about something else. "What's up with you and Sam?" The other Winchester seemed liked a good subject to discuss.

Amie could have sworn she saw Shannon blush. She immediately started picking at the blanket as she talked. "Ever since he saved my life, I feel a connection to him. I trust him."

Amie nodded along as Shannon talked. Dean had told her most of this earlier, when Sam and Shannon had gone to collect some of her things from her parents' house. Once they had found Amie, Sam had decided to stay behind and exorcise the demon from the young woman. Castiel had helped him. After the demon was gone, apparently Shannon had freaked out and latched onto Sam, because he had saved her. They had eventually learned she had been possessed by the demon for quite a while when the angels had captured her and taken her. It looked like her parents had been killed by angels. When Sam had found out that she had no family left and no one she could turn to, he hadn't been able to leave her. He and Dean had already had several heated discussions about her while they stood outside and Amie guessed that their trip to get food was merely a ruse so that they could hash it out once and for all.

Shannon had stopped talking and gone back to staring at the door. Amie smiled to herself. It looked like the younger Winchester had an admirer. Maybe she'd help things along a little.

"Sam's pretty great. He's a really good guy," she pointed out. "And he's not bad looking either."

Shannon nodded, a small smile on her face. "He is pretty attractive," she giggled. "But he's also really sweet. He's been so helpful since…well, since all of this." She turned to Amie, her face suddenly serious. "What happens now?"

Amie shrugged, unable to give the girl a clear cut answer. "I wish I could tell you. But that's kind of up to you. Some people go back to their lives, I guess, but others, I don't know, they don't handle it so well. Everyone's different."

Shannon nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Amie scooted closer to her on the couch and put a hand on her knee. She didn't say anything, she just let her cry. When Amie heard the unmistakable sound of the Impala outside, she handed Shannon a tissue and patted her leg. "We'll figure it out, don't worry," she whispered.

The Winchester brothers came through the door in a rush of noise. They were arguing, but Amie could tell immediately that it wasn't serious, just them throwing verbal jabs and barbs at each other. Shannon looked a little nervous, her eyes flicking back and forth from brother to brother, not quite sure what was going on. Amie laughed and gave her a wink, mouthing 'it's okay' as she did.

She patted Shannon's leg one last time, stood up carefully and crossed the room to Dean. He immediately dropped the bag he was holding on the table and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off of her feet to kiss her.

"Hey baby," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," she answered.

Dean set her down gingerly, but he kept a hold of her hand. With the other hand, he pulled food from the greasy bags on the table, occasionally shoving a French fry in his mouth. He pulled a chair out from the table for Amie, then he sat in a chair next to her and grabbed a burger.

Sam had gone directly to Shannon when he came in the door. He was perched on the edge of the couch, close to her, yet not so close as to make her uncomfortable. She was looking up at him as he spoke and Amie could tell by the look on her face that she was falling and falling hard for him.

Amie pulled her chair closer to Dean's, leaning over to talk to him. "So, what's up? Did you guys come to any sort of agreement?"

Dean nodded, his mouth full of food. "It's basically up to her. If she wants to go with us back to the bunker, she can. If she wants to stay here or whatever, than that's cool, too." Dean glanced over at his brother. "I've never seen him like this. I honestly think if I hadn't agreed to let her go with us, he would have beat the shit out of me. I did have to convince him to leave the decision up to her, though."

Amie smiled at him. He was always so oblivious. "He likes her, you big goof. Just look at him. It's kind of cute." She put her head against Dean's shoulder as a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. She felt a shudder go through her.

He wrapped an arm around her back and dropped his burger to the table. "You alright?" he asked.

"It may be a while before she is right again, Dean," Amie heard Castiel say from behind them. She jumped slightly in her chair, as did Dean. She heard a squeak of terror from Shannon.

"God dammit, Cas, it sure the hell didn't take you long to slip into your old habits," Dean stammered. "I hate it when you do that!"

Castiel at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "I am sorry." He sat on the end of the bed. "But I needed to speak to you. And Amie."

"Okay, talk," Dean said, exasperation with his best friend evident in his voice.

Castiel looked at Amie. "Have you and Dean had intercourse since you returned?"

"Jesus Christ, Cas…" Dean muttered under his breath. "Are you fucking kidding me? It's called tact."

Amie squeezed Dean's hand and shook her head. "No, Castiel, we haven't. Why do you ask?" This was potentially the most awkward conversation she had ever had—discussing her sex life with an angel, who happened to be her boyfriend's best friend. The fact that she still wasn't sure if she even liked Castiel didn't make it any easier.

"I was curious if it might be possible that you could be pregnant since I last saw you. I have been trying to find any information I can about your child and the potential powers it could have," Castiel explained.

Amie sat forward in her chair. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, no," Castiel shook his head. "No one seems to know what powers it is that this child could have, or what they could be used for, or if it could truly be used as a weapon. We do not know anything. I do know that the demon blood and the angel blood they put in your system is part of it, as is the fact that the angels were repeatedly killing you and bringing you back. I just don't know how it all works together. We may have no way of knowing until the child is actually born."

Amie shuddered again, a chill working its way through her. "Well, I'm not pregnant and even if I was, it would be a while before the baby came along. We have time. We'll just take precautions until we can find out more."

"I think until we know more, you and Dean should abstain completely from any type of sexual relations," Castiel said calmly. Amie could have sworn he almost looked happy about it.

Dean's head shot up and his eyes widened. "Um, I don't think so. We can use protection…"

Castiel interrupted him. "No, Dean, you don't understand. The angels will stop at nothing to make sure this child is born. It's best if you just stay away from Amie for now."

Amie felt Dean's hand tighten on her waist. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He did not look happy. This was not going to be fun. For either of them.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Dean sat up and turned over his pillow, hoping it might help him get a little bit more comfortable. He never should have played rock, paper, scissors with Sam. He never won and his loss meant that Sam was snoring on the couch while he flopped around on the floor.

Keeping his distance from Amie was proving to be very difficult, especially in the small motel room that was now being shared by four people. He'd known it wouldn't be easy, but he had thought he would be fine with not having sex with her as long as he could still touch her and be close to her. Except every time he got anywhere near her, desire coursed through him, making him want her almost more than he wanted the air he was breathing. Several times he'd felt an erection straining against his jeans just from the touch of her hand or the sound of her voice. She was like the proverbial forbidden fruit; he knew he couldn't have her which made him want her even more.

And now, since sleeping next to Amie required him to be close to her, especially in the extremely small motel bed, he'd opted for the floor. Well, he'd actually hoped for the couch, but Sam had won that battle after he'd given his bed to Shannon.

Dean snorted. That was something interesting in itself. He was convinced that the little brunette had it pretty bad for his brother. He didn't think that Sam even realized it yet. He would figure it out soon enough when they were all crammed together in the bunker.

Amie shifted in the bed above him, a small whimper coming from her. He was really worried about her, though he was trying his best not to let it show. They had no idea what the combination of angel and demon blood was doing to her, not to mention what effect being killed and then brought back an unknown number of times was having. He could tell she wasn't herself either. She'd been moody, overly sensitive and quick to anger, which was completely unlike her. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep, he'd heard her tossing and turning repeatedly from his position on the floor for quite a while after Sam and Shannon had fallen asleep.

"Dean," he heard her whisper from above him.

He sat up until he could see her. She was lying on her side facing him, still asleep, but it was definitely not restful. Her brows were drawn together, almost like she was in pain, and her hands were clenching the bed sheets. As he watched, she flipped to her back, her legs tangling in the blanket.

She put her hands up in front of her, slapping at something only she could see. "Dean, no, stop," she mumbled. "Please, don't, you'll hurt me. Please stop."

Whatever this dream was, it was not a good one. Dean pushed the blankets off of his legs and pulled himself to his knees. He put a hand on her arm and shook her gently. "Amie, honey, wake up," he whispered.

What he didn't expect was her reaction. She shoved him away, hard enough to knock him on his ass. She shot out of the bed, her feet barely touching the floor, before she put her back against the far wall of the room. Dean noticed that she had an angel blade in one hand, the one that had been on the bedside table. Its tip was brushing against her bare leg. Her other hand was held out in front of her as if to push away anyone or anything that came near her. She looked absolutely terrified. He wasn't even sure she was conscious of where she was, let alone what she was doing.

Dean quickly got to his feet, holding his hands out in front of him in a non-threatening gesture. Within seconds, Sam was behind him. Dean glanced over at Shannon, who was huddled in the other bed, the blanket pulled up to her chin.

"What the hell is going on, Dean?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean answered quietly. "She was asleep, dreaming and talking, telling me to get away from her, even though I wasn't anywhere near her. When I tried to wake her up, this happened."

He took a step toward Amie, but she hissed and waved the blade at him. He took a step back and she lowered the weapon. She brushed it back and forth across her thigh, shallow cuts appearing as she did. He took a deep breath; he needed to stop her before the cuts got any deeper. He put his hand up, gesturing Sam forward so he could whisper in his ear. Sam nodded his understanding once Dean explained what he wanted to do.

Sam moved out from behind Dean and started toward Amie, drawing her attention away from his brother. She tried to watch both of them simultaneously, her head swinging back and forth as she tried to assess the bigger threat. As Sam moved past the table, he picked up his shotgun and held it pointing toward the floor. Amie turned to face him, obviously deciding that the brother with the weapon was the one she most wanted to worry about. Once she was completely focused on Sam, Dean moved carefully to his left, taking himself out of her line of vision.

"Sorry, baby, but this is gonna hurt," he mumbled as he leapt forward and tackled her.

She turned at the last second, just as Dean hit her, trying to bring the blade up, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm over her head. They hit the floor, Amie's head smacking into his chin, causing him to bite his tongue, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. They slid into the coffee table and pushed it against the couch, glasses and empty wrappers falling around them. Amie had kept a death grip on the angel blade, so Dean slammed her arm against the ground several times, squeezing her wrist, forcing her to drop it. Sam rushed over to scoop it up.

Dean pulled back slightly, trying to see Amie's face. She opened her eyes, and for just a brief second, they were both completely black, before flashing back to their normal bright blue.

Startled, Dean looked at Sam. "Did you see that? Her eyes?" he demanded.

"Yeah, I did," Sam replied. "They were black."

Suddenly, Amie screamed and her back arched off of the floor, her body convulsing beneath Dean's. Her feet kicked against the floor and her head whipped from side to side. Just as quickly as it started, it stopped, her body falling limp.

Dean sat up carefully, keeping her pinned under him, his hands still holding her wrists, just in case. She took several deep breaths, then opened her eyes and looked around the room.

"What the hell?" she muttered. She pushed against Dean, trying to move him. "Why are you sitting on me?"

* * *

Dean was relieved when they crossed the state border from Missouri into Kansas. In just a few short hours they would be back at the bunker. Maybe then he could get some sleep. Hell, maybe they could all get some sleep. None of them had gotten very much since he'd had to tackle his girlfriend to the ground and force a weapon from her hand.

He glanced across the front seat at Amie. She was huddled against the passenger side door, staring out the window. She'd hardly said a word since she'd come to with Dean sitting on her and he'd explained what happened. After that, she'd refused to go to sleep, saying she was afraid of what she'd do if she did. She'd been drinking cup after cup of coffee and popping energy pills constantly in order to stay awake. Dean had spent an hour trying to convince her that he wouldn't let her do anything stupid, that he'd watch her so she could sleep, but she wouldn't listen.

Dean reached across the seat and grabbed her hand. He tugged it, pulling her across the seat until she was sitting next to him. He kept a hold of her hand, placing it in his lap. He could feel it trembling, most likely from the copious amounts of caffeine she had consumed. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. She leaned her head against his shoulder, but he knew she didn't sleep.

They arrived at the bunker in the early evening. Sam took Shannon to show her around while Dean unloaded the Impala. Amie propped a hip against the car's bumper, waiting for him to finish, constantly fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot.

"You okay?" he finally asked her. He leaned next to her and ran his fingers through her hair, down the side of her face until he cupped her cheek. She leaned into him, a slight smile on her face. She shook her head.

"No, I'm not," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But what are you gonna do?" She turned her face in his hand and kissed his palm before stepping away from him.

She picked up her backpack and reached for her duffel, but Dean grabbed it before she could. He led the way down the hall to their rooms, reaching hers first. But when he reached for the door, Amie stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"No, put my stuff in your room. I'll unpack in there," she said.

Dean smiled to himself. He didn't want to make a big deal of it, so he simply nodded and continued on to his room, dropping their things just inside the door. Amie threw her backpack on a chair and then dropped to the bed.

"I'm exhausted," she admitted. "I need to sleep. But I'm afraid to."

"I told you, I'll watch you and make sure nothing happens," Dean said as he crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed.

She squeezed his arm. "But you need to sleep, too. You're practically dead on your feet."

He leaned over her, but didn't touch her, though he was tempted to. "I'll be fine. Let me go grab a beer and I'll be right back." He kissed her forehead before he got up and went to the kitchen. He hoped that Amie was so exhausted she didn't realize he was lying. He felt like shit—his eyes burned, his head hurt and he desperately wanted to sleep. But he'd forgo it if it meant she could get some rest.

Sam was rummaging through the refrigerator when Dean walked in. He leaned against the counter, waiting for his brother to move. "Where's Shannon?" he finally asked when he noticed she wasn't clinging to Sam's side.

"I put her in the room across the hall from mine, the empty one next to Kevin. She's waiting in there for me while I get us some food." Sam looked around the room. "Amie in her room?"

"Nope, she's in _our_ room," Dean answered. He was sure he had a cheesy grin on his face.

Sam looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Really? She moved into your room? That sounds a little dangerous considering you two aren't supposed to be having sex. Maybe you guys should wait."

"Jesus, Sam," Dean muttered. "Give me some credit, would you? I'm not some horny teenage boy. I think I can handle being around her and not have sex with her."

"Okay, whatever you say," Sam chuckled as he pushed the fridge shut with his foot. "Good luck with that." He left the kitchen, arms loaded with food.

"Bitch!" Dean yelled after him.

"Jerk!" Sam called back.

Dean grabbed two beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge and a bag of chips before turning off the light and leaving the kitchen. He hurried back down the hall; he wanted to get back to Amie before she did fall asleep. Truth be told, he was just as concerned as she was about what she might do when she did.

He walked into the room just as Amie was snapping her right wrist into a handcuff and the other side to the bottom bar of the headboard. "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked incredulously.

"This is so we can both sleep. I moved the weapons out of my reach," she answered as she pointed across the room. She held out her left hand. "Take the keys, put them where I can't reach them." She jiggled the tiny handcuff keys at Dean.

He was across the room in two steps, snatching them out of her hand. He set the beers and chips on the bedside table and knelt in front of Amie. "This is ridiculous. I am not letting you handcuff yourself to the bed." He moved to take the cuffs off, but she put her hand over it.

"When's the last time you slept?" she asked him quietly.

Dean sat back on his heels, trying to remember. "I don't know, thirty-six, forty hours ago?" Shit, had it really been that long? No wonder he felt like crap.

Amie grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. She rubbed her thumb across the stubble on his cheek. "Then leave it. It won't hurt me and this way I won't hurt anybody." She took a deep breath. "I could have hurt you last night. Or Sam. I had no idea what I was doing. We'll try this for now." She kissed him, and he felt a smile forming on her lips. "Besides, doesn't this fulfill one of those naughty fantasies you've always had? Me, handcuffed to the bed, at your mercy."

Dean's breath caught in his throat and he felt a tightening in his groin as the image flashed through his mind. "That's not nice," he growled. "You know we're on lockdown."

"Mm, that doesn't mean we can't use our imagination. There's other things we can do," Amie murmured as she wrapped her legs around Dean's waist and ran her free hand up under his t-shirt and across his abdominal muscles.

Dean tucked the keys to the handcuffs in his pocket, then rested his hands on either side of Amie, his face just inches from hers. He closed his eyes. It only took him a second to make a decision. "Kiss me," he ordered as he slid his hands up her thighs, grabbed her waist and pulled her against him. He pressed his now obvious erection into her and she squirmed, creating a delicious friction. He pushed her back on the bed until she was lying beneath him, his hips nestled between her legs.

Amie wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and brought his face to hers. She used her tongue to trace his lips before gently kissing him. Dean wasn't that patient, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, needing that intimacy, that closeness with her. He ran his hand up her side until he reached her breast, kneading it through the soft cloth of her shirt. He released her mouth and moved his lips across her jaw, down her neck to the sensitive spot above her collar bone, sucking gently. Amie ran her hand through his short hair and when Dean softly bit her neck, she jerked the handcuffs taut trying to grab his shoulder.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, using Dean's favorite phrase.

Dean laughed gently. "Mm, interesting," he whispered. He took her free hand and pulled it above her head, lacing his fingers through hers, holding it in place. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it off of her to expose her thin lacy bra. He brought his mouth to her breast, flicking his tongue out and licking the nipple through the thin material, before lightly blowing his breath across it. He pushed his erection against her and she moaned. That was all the encouragement he needed. He yanked her bra down and took her completely in his mouth, suckling the sensitive flesh of her breast. He felt Amie's legs encircle his back, her heels resting just below his butt, her thighs clamped tight against his hips. Using only her legs, she pulled him hard against her, grinding her hips into his.

Dean moaned. He couldn't remember doing anything like this since high school—minus the handcuffs—and it was mind-blowingly amazing. The feel of Amie's fully clothed body moving in ecstasy under his was driving him crazy. He pushed himself harder against her, his jeans nearly bursting from the strain of his erection. She responded, her hips moving in sync with his. They dissolved into a mass of arms and legs, kissing and touching, the only sounds their breathy moans and the rustling of their clothes as they moved against each other.

Dean wasn't sure how much time passed before he came up for air. He brushed Amie's hair from her face and kissed her gently. "Thank you," he whispered.

Amie furrowed her brows, her eyes confused. "For what?" she inquired.

"For loving me," he answered. "For being you and for putting up with me." He kissed her again, slowly and sensually. "And for letting me ravage your body while you're handcuffed to a bed." He grinned wickedly.

She laughed and ran her fingers through his short, spiky hair. "You can ravage me any time you like, handcuffs or not."

Dean laughed with her, rolling to his side. He pulled his t-shirt off and then tucked himself against Amie's back, his hand snaking around her waist to pull her tight against him. "How's the arm? Uncomfortable yet? You know I'll uncuff you if you want me to."

Amie shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Go to sleep. It's better this way."

Dean kissed her shoulder before resting his chin against it. His eyes felt heavy and he knew sleep was close. Amie took his hand in hers and pulled it up under her chin. The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was her lips brushing across his knuckles.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Amie stepped over the blood flowing out of Sam and pooling at her feet. She spun the knife in her hand, nonchalantly, as if stabbing her boyfriend's brother to death was something she did every day. She could see Dean watching her, warily, as she crossed the room to where he was chained. She stopped in front of him and ran her hand up his leg, over his crotch, to the waistband of his jeans. She hooked a finger in his jeans and pulled him forward, the knife in her hand resting under his chin._

_"Amie, honey," Dean pleaded. "You have to listen to me. You need to stop." _

_She laughed and pushed him away. "I don't need you anymore." She ran the knife down his torso, leaned against him and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, baby," she muttered as she slid the knife through the space between his ribs._

Amie bit back a scream as she came awake, one arm stopping short as she sat up. "What the fuck?" she mumbled. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. She was in Dean's room. Scratch that. She was in their room. She'd cuffed herself to the bed so she wouldn't hurt anyone. She looked to her left. Dean was still sleeping, his back to her.

She laid back down, her cuffed hand restricting her movements. She ran her other hand over her face and felt the wetness on her cheeks from tears she didn't know she had shed. She noticed her hands were shaking and her mouth was dry. The dream had freaked her out. It had been so real that Amie could still smell the coppery scent of the blood she'd spilled and feel the knife as she pushed it into Dean and watched the light fade from his beautiful green eyes. For just a second, before she woke up, she had felt her heart swell with triumph, knowing that she was the one to finally kill Dean Winchester.

Amie put her hand over her eyes, the tears spilling down her face. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she having these murderous thoughts? She loved Dean, she didn't want to kill him. Shit, she couldn't stomach the thought of him being hurt, let alone dead.

Dean rolled over in his sleep. He reached a hand out and when he found her, he grasped her arm and pulled himself to her. He slid his arm over her waist and buried his face in her hair against her neck. Amie heard him inhale deeply before his breathing settled back into a steady rhythm. She ran her fingers over his arm, caressing it. She turned it so she could see his watch, the numbers luminescent in the dark room. She sighed in frustration when she realized she'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. She closed her eyes, praying for sleep. Unfortunately, the only thing she could see against her closed lids was her face in the dream, her eyes completely black. Coal black.

Amie sat up carefully, moving Dean's arm so it was resting next to him. He mumbled something incoherent and rolled to his back. She sat against the headboard for a few minutes, her mind racing. She needed to get out of the bed, move or something. But first she had to take care of the handcuffs. She checked the bedside table, looking for something she could use to open the lock. There was nothing on the tabletop, so she slid open the top drawer. Inside was a ponytail holder and several bobby pins that she'd left the last time she'd stayed in Dean's room. She grabbed one of the bobby pins and used her teeth to bend it into a shape she could use.

Using the bent bobby pin, she unlocked the cuff holding her right wrist to the headboard. She laid it on the bed, trying not to rattle it, and set the bobby pin on the bedside table. Amie stood up and quickly pulled off her button-up shirt, exchanging it for a clean t-shirt. She buttoned the top button of the jeans she was still wearing. She was amazed that she and Dean had made it through their marathon make-out session with most of their clothes still on. There was something to be said for self-control.

Amie crossed the room and picked up her gun. She opened her duffle bag and pulled out the extra magazine. Maybe some time on the gun range, taking her frustrations out on the flimsy paper targets, would make her feel better. If that didn't work, she'd go beat the crap out of the punching bag in the garage. She slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Kevin's room was across the hall from Dean's and next to that was an extra bedroom. The door was open and Amie could see moving lights, most likely from a TV, spilling across the floor. She tip-toed past the door, glancing in as she did. Sam was asleep on the bed, propped up against several pillows, with Shannon leaning against him. It looked like she was asleep as well. Sam was obviously being his usually sweet, not-pushy self—his arms were crossed over his chest and one foot was on the floor, in what was surely an attempt at propriety.

Amie laughed to herself. Sam was so different from his brother. She remembered the first time she and Dean had been in a room alone, at night. Dean had definitely not made any attempt to keep his hands to himself. She paused, her mind racing back to that night. Had they been touched by the cupid then? She was willing to bet that they had been. She remembered how desperate and needy they had both acted, practically ripping the clothes off of each other. They had only stopped short of having sex because Amie had smacked her head against the wall, hard. It had literally knocked some sense into her and she'd pushed Dean away, reminding herself that she didn't want to be a notch on the infamous Dean Winchester's bedpost.

She opened the door to the gun range, stepped in and pushed it shut behind her. She knew that the sounds of her gunshots would echo through the bunker, but she hoped that the closed doors and quietly playing televisions would mask some of the sound. She popped out the magazine already loaded into her .22 longrifle and checked it. When she was satisfied that she was ready, she lined herself up and prepared to shoot the target about twenty feet away. But her hand was still shaking and every time she tried to aim, it seemed to get worse. Finally, she stopped and took a deep breath. She looked at the floor and closed her eyes momentarily. She just needed to picture something or someone she wanted to kill. Dean's face immediately popped into her head. Without thinking or even opening her eyes, Amie fired three shots. She opened her eyes. She had hit the target dead center, all three times.

* * *

Amie leaned against the door, staring at the gun in her hand. Now she was imagining killing Dean when she was awake. What the hell was wrong with her? She quickly took out the weapon's magazine and ejected the bullet in the chamber and set them on the counter next to the door. She tucked the empty gun into the waistband of her jeans, against her back. She didn't trust herself with a loaded weapon.

She searched every thought, every feeling and every emotion she'd had since she'd come back from the angels' underground tunnels. She couldn't find an ounce of hatred for Dean. The only time it seemed to appear was when her subconscious was involved—like when she was dreaming or trying _not_ to think. This had to be because of the demon blood. Or the angel blood. Shit, she didn't know which. Both we're equally big dicks. Maybe it was hard-wired into them to hate the Winchesters and when their blood had been put in her that feeling had for some reason transferred as well. Wouldn't that just be her good god damned luck?

"Cas?" she called. "Castiel?" He was not her first choice when it came to seeking help, but he was probably the only one who might be able to give her answers. "Cas, I need to talk to you!" she yelled.

"You do not have to yell," a deep voice muttered from beside her. He sounded irritated.

Amie jumped, despite the fact that she had been calling him. She took a deep breath. She would never get used to angels just appearing out of nowhere.

"Sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking. I've only done this one other time."

Castiel nodded. "I understand. Not everyone is accustomed to calling angels. What can I do for you?"

Amie explained what had been happening—her reaction to Dean in the motel room, the dream, and what had just happened with the gun. She also told him her theory as to why it was happening.

Castiel looked off into space, apparently thinking. She waited, hoping he would have some kind of answer.

"It is entirely plausible," he finally said. "It is true that neither angels nor demons are very fond of the Winchester brothers. Perhaps that is encoded into our very beings. It seems more likely that this particular trait is demon related though. Maybe the demon that had been possessing the young woman has had previous experience with Sam and Dean. When its blood was transferred to you, its hatred for them also transferred."

Amie sighed. Things just kept getting better and better. She was being pulled in two different directions—she loved Dean and apparently part of her hated him as well. She finally nodded at Cas. "Well, that's just great. I guess I'll have to stay locked up when I sleep so I don't hurt Dean. Or Sam for that matter." She rubbed her wrist, the one that had been handcuffed, absentmindedly. "Is there anything that can be done about it?"

"No, not really. You will just have to be extremely careful. There is no way of knowing what might set you off." Castiel gave her a small, strained smile. "By the way, how are things going? Are you and Dean remaining celibate as I instructed?"

She laughed. "No actually, Cas, we're not, but we're also not having…conventional sex, so to speak. Dean's keeping his bits and pieces away from my bits and pieces, just like you said. We're…being creative." She was rewarded with an uncomfortable silence from the angel, as well as a rather disgusted expression.

"Umm, I'm glad to hear it," he replied. "If there is nothing further, I'll be going."

Amie nodded. She heard the flap of wings and he was gone.

She decided that since having a weapon in her possession was out of the question, she would go beat the crap out of the punching bag in the garage. She pulled her hair into a ponytail using the rubber band she kept on her wrist and hurried down the hallway. The garage floor was cold on her bare feet, so she was happy to step on the mat that Sam had put under the heavy bag. She started slowly, throwing right and left jabs as she circled the bag, her speed increasing as she warmed up. Eventually she started kicking it as well, the sound of each roundhouse and punch she threw making a satisfying thump against the bag. She worked the bag over until sweat was dripping down her face and her t-shirt was sticking to her back and chest. Her hands began to sting and the muscles in her arms and legs were aching, but she kept going.

Amie heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned to see Dean leaning against the Impala, wearing just his jeans. She dropped her hands and wiped the sweat off of her face with her forearm.

"Hey baby," he said quietly. "I woke up and you were gone. Scared me, after what happened yesterday."

"Sorry," she muttered, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "I didn't want to wake you." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, skimming a finger down his torso as she did.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, a serious expression on his face. "So much for the handcuffs," he said. Amie could tell by his tone that he was pissed.

Amie shrugged, deciding to ignore it. "I guess I should have cleaned out the drawers too." She didn't like the way he was looking at her, like he knew something she didn't. She went back to the punching bag and started hitting it.

Dean followed her. He stood on the opposite side of the bag, holding it as she threw punch after punch. He watched her closely and she could tell he was assessing every move she made, waiting for the opportune time to speak.

"Do you have something to say, Dean?" she finally asked. She stopped to catch her breath, waiting for his answer.

"Cas came to see me," he replied as he stepped to the side of the bag. He leaned against it, one hand above his head holding the chain that attached it to the ceiling. He waited, as if he expected her to say something. When she didn't he sighed loudly and said, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Amie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She should have known Castiel would go running to Dean as soon as she talked to him. God damn angel anyway. "Apparently, I don't need to tell you because Cas already did. What is he, a high school girl? Runs to tell you everything?" She punched the bag, knocking it into Dean. He stumbled to the side a few steps, then grabbed the bag.

"He said that he thought I should know, so I can take precautions. So _we_ can take precautions," he said. "He was trying to help. He doesn't want anyone hurt."

"Whatever," she mumbled. Amie didn't believe that for a second. Castiel was running this particular show and he wanted to make sure he told Dean that his girlfriend wanted to kill him before she could even utter the words. She was starting to feel like Cas would do anything to come between them.

Dean hit the bag openhanded, the sound reverberating through the garage. "God dammit, Amie, knock it off! You should have told me," he yelled.

"I was going to tell you," she shot back. "But that stupid ass, arrogant angel who thinks he knows everything blinked out of here and popped in to tell you before I got a chance. Christ, Dean, give me a little credit here! I wasn't going to run around the bunker knowing I could lose it at any second and not tell you!" She spun and kicked the bag, connecting with it just inches from Dean's face.

He stepped back, startled, then shoved the bag hard enough to knock it into Amie. Not expecting it, she stumbled and fell to the mat. She shot to her feet, pissed. She flew at Dean and threw a punch, connecting with his chin, knocking him back a step. She immediately threw another one, but he was expecting it and deflected it. She brought her right leg up to kick him, but he shoved it away, so she immediately swung around and kicked him in the gut with her left foot. Dean stumbled back, the air rushing from him with a loud whooshing sound and before she even knew what she was doing, Amie tackled him to the ground. They rolled on the ground, both fighting for the dominant position, until she forced him onto his back, her thighs tightly gripping him. Dean grabbed her wrists, his hands like a vise. He pushed his knee between them and used it to flip her off him, her back hitting the mat. She felt the air rush from her lungs. Dean scrambled to straddle her, grabbing her wrists again and holding them over her head.

"Fuck me," he muttered, his face just inches from hers.

Dean's words sent a spike of heat through her, pooling in her stomach. Desire pushed every other thought out of her mind. Amie brought her head up and grabbed his lower lip between her teeth, biting it until she tasted blood. Dean pulled away and released one of her hands, his hand immediately going to his lip. "God dammit…" he swore.

Before he could finish, she grabbed the back of his head, her fingers twisting in his hair, and forced his lips to hers. She kissed him hungrily, her tongue exploring his mouth. She felt him hesitate momentarily, but then he met her with equal fervor. He grabbed her pony tail, wrapped his hand around it and held the back of her head, keeping their lips cemented together. He released her hands so he could slip his under her shirt, his fingers immediately going to her nipple, pulling and twisting it. Amie gasped at the combination of pain and pleasure Dean was inflicting on her, her body aching for him. She fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, hurriedly undoing them so she could free him from the constraints of his pants. She pushed them down his hips until she could stroke his erection, her fingernails grazing him as she pulled him free. Dean hissed, deepening their kiss, only breaking it long enough to tug her shirt off. He unbuttoned her jeans, quickly sliding his hand past her low slung underwear to caress her, teasing her slowly and agonizingly, brushing her entrance repeatedly with his finger.

"Dean, please…," she begged, pushing herself against his hand.

Suddenly, the lights in the garage flashed and Amie heard the unmistakable sound of wings flapping.

"Dean!" a familiar, deep, gravelly voice bellowed from the other side of the garage.

Dean stopped kissing her. "Son of a bitch," he growled, out of breath, his forehead resting against hers. He sat up on his knees, breaking their contact.

Amie scrambled backward away from him, looking over Dean's shoulder. She saw Castiel crossing the garage, his face angry. She grabbed her shirt and stood up.

"Your angel wants you," she stammered. "You better go." She bolted from the garage, passing Castiel on her way out. She was positive he had a smug, satisfied look on his face.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"Christ, Cas, you have impeccable timing," Dean barked. He stood up, his back to the angel and pulled himself together, getting his pants up and buttoned. "Talk about a mood killer."

Castiel glared at him. "It was my intention to interrupt you. If I hadn't, you would have had sex and she most likely would have become pregnant. We still don't…."

"Shut up, Cas," Dean sputtered. "Just shut up." He needed to find Amie and talk to her. She seemed to be under the mistaken impression that if Cas said 'jump' then Dean would ask 'how high?' That assumption needed to be corrected immediately.

He was about to head down the stairs, but he stopped short. "Wait a minute," he said, turning to look at Cas. "Are you watching us?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, I am. I don't think that you are able to control yourself when it comes to her, so I thought it best if I kept an eye on the two of you." He shifted from foot to foot. "Obviously, I was correct."

"How long?" Dean asked. He was barely able to control his anger. The only thing stopping him from clocking Cas was the fact that it would hurt Dean more than it would hurt him. When the angel didn't immediately answer him, he repeated the question. "How long have you been watching us, Cas?"

"This is only the second time," Castiel answered.

Dean put his head back and looked at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "When was the other time?" he asked.

"Earlier tonight," the angel replied. He cleared his throat. "When Amie was handcuffed to the bed. And it's obvious that I should have been watching, considering what I just witnessed. And what I just stopped."

"You really are a dick, you know that?" Dean muttered. "Don't do it anymore." He shot Cas a glare as he left the garage.

He hurried down the hall to their room, pausing long enough to look in the new girl's room where Sam was still asleep, propped against the headboard. Dean briefly considered waking his brother up, he needed somebody to talk to that wasn't Amie or Cas. He had one foot over the threshold of the door before he stopped himself. He'd talk to Sam later; he looked too peaceful to disturb.

Dean stepped across the hall, opened the bedroom door, stepped in and closed it behind him. Amie was in the bathroom, he could hear the shower running. He crossed the room and turned the knob of the closed door. It was locked. He'd suspected it would be; she was pissed. She was going to be even more pissed when she found out Cas had been watching them. He could tell that Amie was not very fond of his angelic best friend and this would not help matters at all. He decided it would be best to give her some space, let her cool down a bit before he tried to talk to her.

He was sitting at the table in the library, drinking a cup of coffee, when Sam walked in. "Hey Sammy," he said. "How's your little girlfriend?"

Sam shot him a dirty look. "She's okay." He sat across the table from his brother and poured himself a cup of coffee. "She's still a little freaked out, but she's taking things surprisingly well. I think there was a bit of a setback after Amie's demonstration the other night, but overall she's handling things okay." Sam looked around the room. "Speaking of which, where is Amie?"

"Bedroom," Dean answered, nodding his head toward their room. "I need to talk to you about her anyway." He explained everything he could about Amie's dreams and her sudden murderous intentions regarding the Winchesters. He decided not to tell his brother about Cas and his voyeuristic streak. That he would keep to himself for now.

"So, what are we going to do with her?" Sam asked when Dean finished.

"With who?" Amie asked them as she entered the room, Shannon close behind. "And if you're talking about me so help me God I am going to kick someone's ass. I should at least be in the room if you're discussing tying me up or something."

"We weren't, well, we didn't actually say we'd tie you up, or anything," Sam stammered. He looked at Dean, his eyes pleading for help.

Dean put his hands up in surrender. "She kicked my ass earlier," he laughed, turning his head to show his brother the bruise on his chin. "Your turn."

He noticed Shannon's eyes widen as he spoke. She turned to Amie. "You did that to him?" she marveled.

Amie shrugged. "I was pissed."

Dean got out of his chair and crossed the room to Amie. He backed her up against the closest bookcase. He stroked her bare arm with his fingertips. "Are you still pissed?" he asked, his voice husky and deeper than normal. He was rewarded with her skin breaking out in goose bumps where his fingers skimmed.

She shook her head and replied, "No, not at you anyway. But that damn angel is another story. I'd definitely like to kill _him_ right now."

Dean leaned over until his lips were brushing against her ear, his nose in her hair. He loved the way she smelled, like sunshine and clean rain combined. "I don't care what you think of Cas, I just don't want you mad at me. And don't you ever, ever think that he is more important than you." He slid his lips down her cheek until he reached her mouth, kissing her gently. "Friends?" he asked against her mouth. She nodded, a tiny smile on her face.

Sam cleared his throat behind them, trying to get their attention. Dean stepped away reluctantly, but he kept a hold of Amie's hand. He pulled her to the table and gave her a cup of coffee before sitting next to her. "Since you're here now, can we talk about what we're going to do with you?" he requested. "Personally, I like the tying you up option," he said, winking.

Sam made a face and threw a wadded up napkin at his brother. "Dean, come on," he bellowed. Shannon giggled from her seat at the table, surprising everyone.

"What?" she muttered. "I have a sense of humor."

Sam laughed and slid into the chair next to Shannon. He leaned close to her, his arm touching her shoulder. "You wouldn't laugh if it was your brother and a woman you consider practically a sister talking about their sex life," he chuckled. He took her hand and squeezed it.

Dean shot a quick glance at Amie, who smiled at him, and gestured at him to follow her. He trailed her into the kitchen, looking over his shoulder at Sam and Shannon several times as he did. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"That is your brother falling for that woman in there," Amie explained, laughing. She started taking food out of the refrigerator and passing it to Dean. "You are so clueless. It's adorable," she teased. "Help me make breakfast."

"Do you really think he's, you know, falling for her?" Dean asked as they worked together. "Or is he just being nice?"

Amie rolled her eyes. "No, he's not just being nice. He made you bring her here…," she started.

"He didn't _make_ me do anything," he interrupted.

"…he keeps touching her—her hand, her arm, or something," she continued. "He won't leave her by herself, he even stayed in her room last night."

"Which actually proves that he doesn't like her, because nothing happened," Dean quipped. "The damn door was open all night and they slept. I mean, they actually slept. Ha!" He smiled in triumph.

Amie shook her head as she stood at the stove stirring eggs. "He's not you, Dean," she explained. "He can spend a night with a girl he likes and not have sex with her. His moves are a little different than yours."

Dean moved in behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "What do you know about my moves?" he breathed. He nibbled the back of her neck as he pulled her against his chest. He was about to let his hands do more exploring when he remembered that Castiel was probably keeping an eye on them. He quickly dropped his hands and stepped away from her.

"What's wrong?" Amie asked, turning around. "I was enjoying that." She grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans and pulled him back to her.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Cas is watching us," he whispered.

"What?" Amie exhaled, her voice as quiet as his. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Dean shook his head, knowing that this was going to piss her off. He took two careful steps back before he answered. "I'm not kidding. He started watching us last night, while you were handcuffed. He said he doesn't trust me alone with you."

Amie rubbed her temples with one hand. "I swear to God," she finally muttered. "I'm gonna kill him." She turned back to the stove, banging the pots against the burners and slamming the plates on the counter.

Dean picked up the plates and took them to the library. He would give Amie a few minutes alone. She needed it.

* * *

Breakfast was interesting, to say the least. Sam and Shannon were in their own little world, heads close together, whispering and laughing. Dean was starting to think Amie was right, his little brother had it bad for this girl. Amie sat next to him at the table, eating while she scrolled through news reports on her laptop. She hadn't said a word since she'd come out of the kitchen and she'd made it clear she wasn't interested in conversation when she'd opened her computer and set it up in front of her. Kevin had wandered out long enough to grab some toast and say hello, then he'd disappeared back into his bedroom.

Dean leaned back in his chair, a cup of coffee in his hand, watching everyone. Despite everything that was going on, he felt strangely content. Everyone he cared about was together, in one place. No one was in immediate danger of dying or disappearing. And while they still had a lot of work to do regarding the prophecy and the impending paradox, at least they could tackle it together.

"Dean, look at this," Amie said, interrupting his thoughts.

She had turned her laptop so he could see the story from a newspaper in Sterling, Colorado. He moved his chair closer to her so he could read the article. Five people had gone missing in the last three months. Two of them had been found dead, their insides like jelly.

"Shit, you know what that means," Dean muttered as he read. He scrolled quickly through the story, looking for any information that might prove him wrong.

"Okay," he said after a couple of minutes. "Both bodies were found within three miles of an abandoned factory outside of Sterling." He turned to Amie. "It has to be a djinn, those bastardized ones, like the one that took Charlie, remember?"

Sam looked questioningly at Dean, so he pushed the laptop across the table, pointing at the screen. He waited for Sam to finish reading before speaking. "We should go check it out," he said. "Sterling is less than five hours away."

Sam shifted in his chair, glancing first at Shannon and then at Amie. "I don't know, Dean. Do you think now is the best time to go anywhere?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Well, Sammy, maybe just you and I could go," he reasoned, shooting his brother a knowing look. He looked at Amie, fully expecting her to start protesting. She was twisting her hands in her lap, but when he met her eyes, she nodded.

"You're right," she said. "I can't go, I can't be around either of you if I'm armed. So for now, no hunting. I'll stay here, with Shannon. You two go."

Dean could tell she wasn't happy with the decision, and quite frankly, neither was he. He'd much rather have her come along, not just because he didn't like being away from her, but she really was a damn good hunter. But the job was the job, and he couldn't just sit back and do nothing while people died. Not if he could stop it.

He leaned over and kissed Amie, his hand on the back of her neck. He looked at Shannon. "You okay with that, princess?" he asked her.

Shannon looked at Amie, a slightly scared expression on her face. When Sam put his big hand over hers, she glanced at him before squaring her shoulders and saying, "Yeah, I'm fine with that. Sam said she wants to hurt you two, right? So, we should be good." She smiled at Amie. "It will also give me a chance to pick her brain about the Winchester brothers and all this stuff," she reasoned, gesturing around the room with her hand.

"Awesome," Dean muttered as he grabbed Amie's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come help me pack, baby." He looked back at Sam as they left the room. "Be ready to leave in an hour," he instructed his brother.

As soon as they entered their room, Dean shut the door and pushed Amie up against it. He pulled her leg up and hooked it around his waist before capturing her lips with his. He pressed her into the door as he kissed her, feeling like he couldn't get close enough.

Amie put her hands against his chest and pushed. "Wait, what about Cas? Isn't he watching us?" she cautioned, breathlessly.

"Probably," he responded. "But, if I have to leave you for a day or two, I'm gonna do whatever I want. We'll give him something to watch." He kissed her again, sliding his hand up her leg until he could cup her tight little ass with one hand. She ran her hands up his chest until she was able to lace her fingers around his neck, sighing as they kissed.

Dean kept her against the door, kissing her for several minutes. He eventually stopped, though that was the last thing he wanted to do. "I have to pack," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "I have to go."

"I love you," she exhaled, her fingers running through his hair.

"I know," he replied, smiling when she punched him on the arm.


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me! Sorry for the length of time between updates, I've got some serious writer's block right now, so updates will be a bit more spread out. If you're enjoying the story or even have some constructive criticism for me, please post a review. Thank you to all my readers!**

**Chapter Eleven**

Amie smiled at Dean and blew him a kiss as he pulled the Impala from the garage. She turned to Shannon and tugged her arm. "C'mon, let's go eat ice cream and watch soap operas while the men folk are at work," she joked.

Shannon smiled at her and followed her reluctantly, glancing back over her shoulder several times. Amie watched her out of the corner of her eye; she seemed nervous. She was sure it was because of her.

Amie turned and walked backward down the hallway so she could see Shannon's face. "Are you sure you're okay with staying here with me? If you're not comfortable, I'll lock myself in my room or something." She really hoped that wasn't what the tiny brunette wanted, she was actually looking forward to a normal evening—no weapons, no demons or angels, and honestly, no worries about going too far with Dean. She could use a break.

"No, don't do that," Shannon protested. "I'm okay, I really am. I just…well, since all of this happened and Sam brought me back, he's stayed with me. He even slept in my room last night because I was such a nervous wreck." She looked at her feet, blushing. "We didn't….you know, do anything, he just stayed in there with me."

Amie turned back around, not wanting the forced eye contact to make Shannon feel any more uncomfortable. "Are you okay with that, the not doing anything part?" She hoped the girl would be alright with confiding in her; in her old life, she'd always been one of those people that everyone felt like they could talk to. Besides, it was nice to have another female around to talk to; sometimes the constant masculinity got a bit tiresome.

Shannon cleared her throat. "No," she whispered so quietly Amie barely heard her. "I really like Sam. I just wonder if he likes me too."

Amie smiled to herself. That was pretty much what she had figured. She didn't say anything though, she decided if Shannon wanted to talk about it, she would.

Shannon hurried to catch up with her. "You weren't serious about watching soap operas, were you?" she inquired.

"Um, no," Amie laughed. "I hate soap operas. Though back in the late 90s, after I had my son, I did get hooked on them while I was on maternity leave. Lack of decent daytime television. I was serious about the ice cream, though."

Shannon sighed, obviously relieved. "I could eat ice cream. I was also hoping that I could maybe look through the books in the library. Do you think that would be okay?"

"I don't see why not," she replied. She led the way to the library and pulled out a chair while Shannon practically skipped to the nearest bookcase and started examining books.

Amie sat at the table, checking emails and surfing the internet while Shannon looked through the books on the shelves. She eventually pulled down a couple and brought them to the table. They sat in companionable silence for a while, Shannon rifling through the books and Amie on her laptop.

"Can I ask you a question?" Shannon said.

Amie looked up from her computer. "Sure," she replied.

"Please don't be offended, okay?" Shannon twirled the empty cup in front of her, obviously not entirely comfortable with the question she wanted to ask.

Amie smiled at her, hoping it would relax her. "I'll try not to be."

"You and Dean? It seems like an odd combination. He's kind of a…um, well, my initial impression is that he's a controlling jerk. And he doesn't really seem like the kind of guy to settle down with one woman. So, how did you two end up together? What do you see in him?" Shannon wouldn't look at Amie as she spoke.

Amie smiled, feeling slightly irritated. It was strange to her how everyone's perception of Dean was so different. She felt like the only people who truly knew him were her and Sam. And some days she wasn't even sure she knew him that well. He wasn't really the crass uncouth jerk people thought he was. He was just…Dean.

"Every girl loves a bad boy, right?" she said, her tone slightly harsh.

Shannon grimaced. "I'm not trying to be rude…" she muttered.

"No, I'm sorry. I guess I get a little defensive when it comes to Dean. He's not really the jerk he comes across as. He's just very protective, especially of his brother and me. That need to protect the ones he loves, it makes him seem controlling. He's not though." Amie stopped and took a breath. "But you asked me why I love him, didn't you? I love Dean _because_ he's a bad boy. He's sexy and cocky and dangerous. He acts like he knows every woman he comes across wants to sleep with him, and honestly, they probably do. When he walks into a room, all the women stare at him and all the men are jealous and trust me, he takes full advantage of that knowledge. It should bother me, but I know that I'm the only one he cares about and the only one he wants to be with. And when he looks at me with those emerald green eyes and he kisses me with those unbelievable, full, pouty lips, well, I just melt. There's a side to Dean that no one else sees. That side of him opens doors for me, plays with my hair when we lie in bed together, and makes sure I always feel loved. There's a certain vulnerability to Dean that is very rarely seen by anyone but me or Sam. And he is probably the gentlest person I've ever met. He has an incredible capacity to love, despite everything he's seen and everything he's been through. I guess what I see in him is what no one else sees." Amie leaned back in her chair, out of things to say, but not sure she'd said enough.

Shannon was quiet for a few minutes. Amie was starting to think she'd said too much or maybe she was being judged by the quiet librarian for how she felt.

"Wow," Shannon finally said. "I, uh, don't know what to say. I guess that wasn't what I expected to hear. I figured it'd be about how great he is in bed or something."

"Well, he is and that certainly doesn't hurt," Amie laughed, "but I'm not that shallow."

"I didn't mean to insinuate that you were shallow or anything like that," Shannon sputtered. She stopped talking and took a shaky breath. "None of this is coming out right. Sam told me about the prophecy and how you and Dean are meant to be together. I thought you'd talk about that, you know. I never thought you'd say the stuff you said," she explained. "You really love him, don't you?"

Amie nodded. "Yep. I actually had it pretty bad from the minute we met. Then I didn't see him for over a year and the next time I did, it was like our feelings had just intensified. But it took us almost another year before we got together. If I wasn't fighting my feelings, then he was fighting his. I used to purposely separate myself from the boys, especially when my feelings for Dean got to be too much to deal with. Eventually, we got our act together and well, here we are."

"Do you think if you weren't a hunter that you would feel the same way about him?" Shannon asked. "Or if he would feel the same way about you?"

"Ah, so that's where this conversation is going," Amie said. "Do you want me to be completely honest?" she asked the young woman.

Shannon looked contemplative for a minute before she nodded. "Yeah, I think I do," she finally affirmed.

"I think it helps that I'm a hunter, it helps that I grew up in the life and that I understand the way a hunter thinks and feels. It's a tough life," Amie explained. She stared at the space above Shannon's shoulder as she talked. "Everyone you love or care about dies. And they don't die pretty. Not that death is ever pretty, but hunters' deaths, well, they can be especially awful. And God forbid you love someone who isn't part of the life. You worry about them constantly, worry that the way you live will catch up with them, or that they will somehow be hurt or even killed because of the monsters you intentionally let into your life." Amie's voice caught and she could feel the tears threatening to fall. She hadn't intended to let this discussion get away from her, but the guilt she felt over her family's death was always bubbling near the surface, as was her constant worry for Dean's safety, and this discussion was just bringing all of those feelings out. That, coupled with her worries over everything that was currently happening was making her more emotional than usual.

"Hey Shannon, will you excuse me for a bit? I think I'm going to go lie down. I didn't get much sleep last night," she managed to say, her voice shaking. Amie got up from the table without waiting for an answer and bolted down the hallway.

* * *

Amie woke up to the sound of AC/DC's Back in Black playing from her cell phone. She slid her hand under her pillow and grabbed it.

"Dean?" she mumbled.

"Hey baby," he responded. "Have you been sleeping? I texted you but you didn't answer me."

She rolled over to look at the clock on the bedside table. "Shit," she said. "Yeah, I was asleep. For hours. Sorry."

She rubbed her eyes and stretched. She felt surprisingly good and she hadn't dreamt at all. "How's the job going?" she asked as she stood up.

"Not bad. We're heading over to the factory in a few minutes, but I wanted to call you, see how you're doing." Amie heard the distinct sound of a door closing. "And I miss you. It's been a while since I was on a hunt without you and it's weird. I wish you were with me."

"Hm, is that why I heard you go hide either outside or in the bathroom so Sam wouldn't hear you say that?" she teased.

She could almost see him rolling his eyes as he answered her. "My brother doesn't need any more ammunition, he gets enough as it is. I don't think he needs to hear me being all sappy."

"I like it when you're sappy," she laughed. "Chick flick moments are my favorite."

"Yeah, well, savor 'em, baby. You won't get many," Dean shot back. "Anyway, I'll call you when the job's over. It should be quick."

Amie heard a muffled pounding through the phone and then he yelled, "Shit, alright, I'm coming!" Dean sighed. "I gotta go. I love you, babe."

"I know," she replied. She disconnected the call, Dean's laughter in her ear.

God, she missed him. She hadn't realized how much she would until he was out of the bunker and away on a job. She wanted to be with him, helping him. For now, she'd have to settle for the distraction that was Shannon. She figured she'd better go find her and apologize for ditching her.

Amie stopped by Shannon's room, but she wasn't in there. She went to check the library. Shannon was there and at some point Kevin had joined her. They had at least thirty to forty books spread out on the table. He was showing her different things in the various books and answering her questions. They both looked up when Amie walked in.

"Hey sleepyhead," Kevin grinned. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up at all, you've been asleep for hours."

She smiled at him. "What on earth are you two doing?"

Shannon's face was practically glowing. "Kevin was just showing me some of the different books you guys use for research. It's really fascinating, the collection that the Men of Letters brought together. Have you looked through it?"

Amie shook her head. "I have, but I don't think I've looked at even a third of what you guys have spread out here on the table. Are you looking for something specific?"

"Castiel asked me to look into the prophecy some more, to see if I could find more information about the weapon," Kevin replied. "I showed Shannon what I was working on and she offered to help. Two eyes are better than one, right?"

"Weapon? What weapon?" Amie asked.

"You know, the baby," Kevin replied. He looked distinctly uncomfortable at the word 'baby'.

Amie cringed inwardly. She didn't want to discuss the baby with Kevin, especially when she and Dean hadn't really discussed it. She paged through a couple of the books on the table. "Have you found anything?" she finally asked, looking at Kevin.

"Uh, no, not yet," he replied.

"Will you let me know if you do? As soon as you do?" she requested.

"Sure," Kevin said. "Once I tell Castiel, I'll be sure to let you know…"

"No, I don't think so," Amie interjected. Kevin looked taken aback and unsure of himself. "I would appreciate it if you would tell _me_ what you find out first, Kev," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "After all, this baby is going to be mine and Dean's, right? As the parents, I think we have a right to know anything you find out, as soon as you find out. Cas can wait."

"O…okay," Kevin stammered. "You first, got it."

Amie stalked away, heading for the kitchen. She needed a beer. She pulled one from the bottom of the refrigerator and jumped on the counter to sit. She didn't want to go back to her room or go sit in the library with Kevin and Shannon, so this seemed as good a place as any. She leaned her head back against the cool tile wall and tried to get herself under control. Being pissed wasn't going to help anything right now. She was really starting to resent Cas and how invasive he had become. As far as she was concerned, anything having to do with her and Dean's baby needed to be brought to them. They were going to be the parents, after all.

She had just started to feel like she might not want to maim or kill the damn angel any time in the near future when she heard the sound of his arrival. She took a deep breath before speaking. "What do you want, Cas? Dean's not here."

"I know. I wanted to speak to you," Castiel replied. "If that would be permissible."

Amie sighed. Like she had a choice. "Go ahead."

"I am sure Dean has told you that I was watching you." He paused, as if he was waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he continued. "I would like to apologize for that. I believe it was inappropriate of me and I will not do it again."

"Good," Amie stated. "And yes, it was definitely inappropriate of you."

"I hope that you realize that I was just trying to protect Dean," he explained. "And you, of course," he added as an afterthought.

Amie laughed quietly to herself. She knew Castiel didn't give a shit about her, he only cared about Dean. If he cared at all about her, it was only because he knew what it would do to Dean if something happened to her. His primary concern had been and always would be Dean. "Are you done?" she asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Castiel looked confused. "Are you angry with me?" he asked.

"I'm not angry, Cas. I just don't like you very much right now. You are being very overbearing and mysterious, not to mention overly concerned with the baby that Dean and I haven't even conceived yet," she admitted.

"I am concerned because the weapon is so unpredictable. There is no way of knowing how dangerous such a weapon will become." Castiel argued.

Amie jumped off of the counter, fury pushing her forward until she was inches from Castiel. "It's a baby, you god damned self-righteous prick!" she screamed. "It's not a weapon, it's a baby! An innocent baby that hasn't even been conceived, but already has angels and demons gunning for it. A baby that will be mine and Dean's. If that baby ever comes to be, it will be born out of love, not because some prophecy predicted it! I am sick and tired of everyone going on and on about how dangerous it will be, how it will change everything. I don't give a shit about any of that! I only care that there might be an inkling of a chance that Dean and I can bring something into this world together, something that will be the best parts of both of us." She turned and stormed from the room. She didn't like the way her temper was rising or how out of control she was suddenly feeling. She needed to calm down before she did something stupid.

She wanted to avoid the library, and the people in it, so she took a series of hallways around it to her room. She turned on the television, flipping channels until she found some mindless show she used to watch in the years before she'd returned to hunting. It was the perfect background noise. She decided now would be a good time to unpack. It would keep her occupied and wouldn't require a lot of thought.

Amie worked quietly for a while, the repetition of the task helping her to relax. She pulled open the door to get some of her things from her old room to find Shannon standing there, hand raised as if she had been about to knock.

"Hi," she chirped. She held up two beers. "I thought you could use a drink." She looked over Amie's shoulder to the open duffel bags and suitcases on the bed. "Maybe I could help you too, it looks like you've got a lot to do." She smiled helpfully.

Amie was pleasantly surprised to see her and she genuinely appreciated the gesture. "Sure, come in," she replied, taking one of the beers from her. "I actually could use some help. I need to put all this away and I think I've still got some stuff in the other room." She showed Shannon where she was putting things and they set to work.

After they'd been working for a while, Shannon finally spoke up. "I hope what I said earlier didn't upset you too much." She took a deep breath. "I really like Sam and I was curious if there could be any chance whatsoever for us, you know, since I'm not a hunter." She glanced up at Amie from where she sat on the floor putting clothes in a dresser drawer. "And I'm truly sorry if I upset you with what I said about Dean. He's not a jerk, he just comes across like one. I know I wouldn't be here if he hadn't agreed to let Sam bring me. I've watched him with you and he's awesome, really awesome. He obviously loves you a lot. You're lucky."

Amie sat down on the floor next to Shannon and took her hand. "Thanks. I'm sorry if I freaked you out." She smiled as she said, "I don't think it matters to Sam one little bit that you're not a hunter. He likes you, too, I think. Just give him some time to show you. And you're right, Dean is really awesome." Shannon laughed and Amie joined her.

"Come on, let's get finished and then go see if we've got ice cream," Amie giggled. "Then you can pick my brain all you want about the Winchester boys."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

"Don't call her, Sam," Dean barked. "You'll just make her worry." He stuck his jacket under his head and leaned against the window, letting his forehead touch the cool glass. He still felt slightly feverish, his throat was raw, and his vision was blurry, which was the only reason Sammy was driving.

"And if one of us doesn't call her, she will be pissed when we get back," Sam retorted. "I need to at least let her know what happened."

"We found the djinn and we killed it, end of story," Dean mumbled. "Tell her that." He rubbed his arm where the blue handprint was just starting to fade. Hopefully it would be gone by the time they got back to the bunker.

Sam made a face and glared at his brother. "Haven't you learned anything? I know it's stupid, but honesty really is the best policy. You tell her what happened because if you don't, when she finds out the truth, she'll kill you."

"She won't kill me, she likes me alive," Dean smirked. "She'll just make that face she makes when she's pissed. Which I find quite sexy on her, so I don't mind her making it."

"Christ, you're so annoying," Sam muttered under his breath, but still loud enough for his brother to hear. Dean saw him tuck his phone back in his jacket pocket without making the call.

He smiled to himself. He loved it when he won an argument. He knew that it was just a matter of time before Amie would find out what happened with the djinn, most likely sooner than later, but there was no reason to worry her now.

Dean stared out the window, not liking the fact that he was feeling tired. He fought the urge to sleep, he didn't want to slip back into the nightmares the djinn had given him. He turned the radio up, despite Sam's look of protest. But the monotony of the empty fields flashing by, the familiar purr of Baby's engine, and his body's need to recuperate, all eventually worked together to lull him into a restless sleep.

_He walked down the brightly lit corridor, searching for the correct room. He knew she was here, she had to be. When he couldn't find the room he was looking for, he stopped a pretty blonde nurse in pink scrubs._

_"Excuse me, miss?" he said. "Can you tell me what room Amie Williams is in?"_

_The blonde looked at the clipboard she had tucked under her arm, then pointed farther down the hall. "Room 124," she replied._

_Dean gave her a quick smile and hurried to the room she'd indicated. He pushed open the door only to find the bed empty. He could hear water running behind the closed bathroom door, so he crossed the room and tried to open it. He met resistance, so he pushed harder until it opened about a foot. He was able to see one of those hospital bassinets was blocking the door._

_"Amie?" he yelled. "Amie honey, open the door!"_

_When nothing happened, he gave the door one final shove. It opened wide enough that he could squeeze into the room. The faucet in the bathtub was running, water spilling onto the floor. The bassinet was empty and Amie was sprawled on the floor, the blood from the wound on her neck mixing with the water, making it a pale pink color. Her blue eyes were open and unfocused._

_Dean dropped to his knees, pulling Amie into his lap. She didn't move, her body limp. He put his hand to her neck, desperately searching for a pulse. He couldn't find one._

Dean jerked awake, bumping his head on the window as he did. "Shit," he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Sam looked over at him. "Same dream?" he asked.

"Nightmare" he corrected. "Not exactly the same, but similar." He absentmindedly rubbed his arm. He pulled his sleeve up; the blue handprint was still there, though he thought it looked less vibrant than it had a few hours ago. "What the hell? I took the antidote, why isn't it helping?"

Sam shrugged. "My guess? Because you can't let it go. And if your biggest fear really is losing Amie, I'm not sure you'll be able to let it go." He glanced at Dean's arm. "Maybe once that is completely gone, the nightmares will stop. It actually looks like it's starting to fade."

Dean's phone rang, Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On' blaring from the speaker. He pulled it from the front pocket of his jeans, glaring at Sam as he did. "You called her, didn't you?" he snarled.

Sam smiled innocently. "Nope, I called Shannon. Though, I may have _mentioned_ that we ran into some trouble and it involved you and that Amie might want to give you a call," he admitted.

Dean shot him an even deadlier glare before he answered. "Hey baby," he said calmly.

"Tell me what happened, Dean. Now!" Amie demanded.

He took a deep breath. "It wasn't a big deal…," he started.

"Please," she interrupted. "Don't feed me any bullshit. I can tell through the phone that you're lying. Talk."

"Okay, okay," he mumbled. "So, I told you we were going to the abandoned factory. When we got there, it was a lot bigger than we anticipated, so Sam and I split up. I found a body and when I bent over to check the pulse, something hit me over the head. When I came to, I was tied to a chair. The djinn touched me and I went under. Next thing I remember was Sammy smacking my face to wake me up. But I'm fine, just feeling kind of feverish and my vision is a little blurry."

"Nice abbreviated version," Amie scolded. "What else aren't you telling me?"

Dean turned slightly away from Sam, even though he knew it wouldn't do any good; his brother could still hear him. "I really don't want to talk about it right now, baby. I'll tell you when I get back."

Amie sighed audibly. "Do you promise you'll tell me everything?"

"I promise," he whispered.

"Fine," Amie muttered, but to Dean's ears, she didn't sound convinced.

* * *

Amie was waiting in the garage when they arrived back at the bunker, sitting on a stool reading a book. Dean shot Sam yet another glare. This was why he hadn't wanted to call her. She was worried. God only knew how long she'd been sitting there. She jumped off the stool and was at the passenger door before the car had stopped running, pulling it open.

"Hey baby," he said, pulling himself from the car. "Come here."

"Hey," she answered. She stepped into his open arms and wrapped her arms around his waist. "How are you feeling? The truth."

Dean briefly considered lying, but he knew it wasn't worth it. Besides, he really did feel like crap and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hide it, especially from Amie.

"Like shit," he finally mumbled. "But I am very happy to see you." He kissed her, drawing it out. He had missed her.

Amie returned the kiss, enthusiastically. "As you should be. I see your face took a beating, which you didn't mention," she said as she ran a finger across the cut scoring his lower lip. "Look, you go to the room. Give me a second to talk to Sam and I'll be right behind you." She patted him on the butt as she pushed him toward the stairs, taking him by surprise. When he turned to glare at her, she said, "It's not about you, I promise."

He didn't feel like arguing with her, and honestly, all he could think about was how good a hot shower and a cold beer sounded. "Grab me a beer, will you?" he yelled over his shoulder. She gave him a quick thumbs up before turning to Sam.

Dean saw Shannon come out of her room and when she spotted him, a smile spread across her face. That was new; he was pretty sure she didn't like him very much.

"Dean, hi!" she said. "You guys are back! Where's Sam?"

He smiled to himself. So the smile really wasn't for him, it was actually a smile that said 'hey, you're back where's your brother?' He pointed over his shoulder back toward the garage. "He's still in the garage, unloading the car." Dean put his hand on the doorknob to his room, but before he could open it and go in, Shannon stopped him with a tentative hand to his elbow.

"Sam told me a little bit about what happened when he called. I'm glad you're okay," she told him. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry if I've been a bit standoffish or bitchy. I just didn't know much about you before and I was going solely based on my first impression. But Amie and I talked while you were gone, so I think I understand you a little better. Sam too. And you and Amie, well, you two are really great. I envy you."

Dean was surprised. He'd have to ask Amie exactly what she'd said to make him sound like such a good guy. "Thanks, I guess," he mumbled. He'd never been good at taking a compliment.

"Shannon," Dean heard Sam say from behind him. He turned to see his brother with a huge smile on his face and it certainly wasn't meant for him.

"Sam!" the young woman squealed and took off running. She practically launched herself at him. He caught her, picking her up and kissing her cheek. Shannon responded by kissing him full on the lips, obviously taking him by surprise.

"Whoa, what's this?" Sam sputtered, though he didn't look like he minded very much.

Amie laughed from behind them. "It's about damn time, is what it is," she said, punching Sam's arm as she walked by him. "Told you."

She pushed Dean into their room. "Let's leave the lovebirds alone," she said, prompting Sam to shoot her a deadly look. "I'll go grab a couple beers. I'll be right back. Then, you talk," she ordered, pointing at him. She pulled the door shut, cutting off the sound of Shannon giggling.

As soon as the door closed, he started pulling off his clothes as he walked directly to the bathroom. He wanted to get the stink of the factory and the djinn off of him. He turned on the water in the shower and let it heat up while he checked his face in the mirror. His lip was still slightly swollen, especially around the cut. He had what looked like road rash on his cheek too; it must have happened when his face bounced off of the floor. There were no other visible injuries. He checked the handprint on his forearm as he stepped into the shower; it looked like it had faded even more.

Dean was letting the hot water hit the sore muscles on his shoulders when he heard the bathroom door open. A second later, Amie's face appeared around the shower curtain. She looked him up and down several times before she held out the bottle he hadn't noticed she had in her hand.

"Here," she said, smiling.

He took a long pull from it, enjoying the feel of the cold beer sliding down his raw throat. He hadn't realized it still hurt until just now. He leaned over and kissed Amie before he handed the bottle back to her.

She stepped away from the shower, but she didn't leave the room. "Start talking. You promised," she reminded him.

Not being able to see her actually made it easier for Dean to tell her what had happened. "I was telling the truth when I said the djinn knocked me out; it hit me from behind and my face bounced off the floor," he explained as he grabbed the soap. "When I came to, I was tied to a chair. Then it touched my forearm and I was out. In the nightmare it trapped me in, I lost you. As in, you-were-dead-no-coming-back, lost you. I wasn't under very long before Sam killed it and gave me the antidote." He paused, soap running down his face. "Except it's not working. Or it's not working correctly, I guess. Every time I fall asleep, I'm having nightmares about you being dead. Vivid, horrible, very realistic nightmares that scare the shit out of me."

Dean rinsed the soap from his hair and turned off the water. He pulled the shower curtain open and grabbed a towel from the bar on the wall. Amie was sitting on the counter next to the sink, his beer in her hand. He haphazardly dried off before wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out of the shower. He stopped in front of her, pushing her legs apart so he could stand between them. He took another drink from the beer and set it on the counter behind her.

"I don't know what it is or why the nightmares aren't stopping like they should. Maybe it's taking longer for the djinn's poison to leave my system," he explained. He brushed the hair from her face, the long tendrils slightly damp from the steam of his hot shower. "I hate it, baby," he whispered. "You know I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"I know," Amie replied, her voice as quiet as his.

Dean put a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could see her face. He kissed her gently, being careful of the cut on his lip, before he pulled her against his chest.

He felt her tongue caress his skin as she rained tiny kisses across the scars on his chest. She slid one finger down his torso, tracing the contours of his abdominal muscles, to the light dusting of hair just above the edge of the towel, before gliding over the towel down to his thigh and back up again. She draped her other hand around his back, her cold hand instantly cooling his overheated skin.

Dean felt the familiar tightening in his groin, the need for Amie pooling in his stomach. He tried to pull away, knowing that the temptation to take her was too great, but she wrapped her ankles around his bare thighs, keeping him close.

"Amie, stop," he groaned, even though he wanted nothing more than to make love to her. "You know we can't."

She shook her head, her hair flying around her face. She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Why? Because Cas says we can't?" she breathed. "I don't want to stop. I want this, Dean. Something that's you and me. Ever since you told me, it's all I can think about. And not as this horrible, terrifying weapon that will rain destruction on Heaven and Hell, but as a baby. Our baby. A child that will be the best parts of you and the best parts of me. How can something created out of the love we have for each other be wrong?" Amie's eyes begged him to understand. "Tell me you don't want it and I'll stop."

Dean took her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping the tears from her eyes. He didn't have any words, no argument that made sense. Truth be told, he did want it. The thought of Amie having his baby made him feel content in a way he never thought possible. He kissed her and every doubt he might have had was wiped from his mind.

He lifted her up, her legs automatically going around his waist. He carried her to the other room, setting her gently on the bed. "You are wearing too many clothes," he said, yanking her tank top over her head. She pushed her shorts and underwear off, tossing them to the floor along with his towel. "Mm, much better," he murmured as he pushed her down on the bed. He slid his hands along her naked body until he was able to tangle his hands in her hair. He stretched out on the bed with her body under his, his lips seeking hers.

Dean ran his hands down Amie's side until he could grab her leg and hitch it over his waist as he sucked and nibbled her neck just below her ear. His erection brushed her already wet core and he could feel the heat radiating from her. He put his hand between them, easily finding Amie's most sensitive spot. He rubbed her slowly with his thumb as he gently inserted one finger, pumping slowly in and out. He moved his attention to her breast, licking the nipple before taking just the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue slowly around it. Amie's hands tangled in his hair, holding him against her breast as she arched her back and quiet, breathy moans fell from her lips. She slid her hands down his body, over his arms, his back and his stomach, until she was able to run her hand slowly up and down his shaft. Dean rolled to his back without breaking their connection, pulling Amie on top of him. He brought her face to his, wanting to kiss her, needing to feel her tongue in his mouth as he slid a second finger into her wet center. She squirmed against his hand, encouraging him to push deeper into her. Dean obliged, twisting and crooking his fingers until she broke off their kiss with a long groan, her eyes rolling back in her head, her entire body shuddering as an orgasm worked its way through her.

When she brought her lips back to his, Dean pulled himself upright, leaning against the headboard. He positioned Amie so she was straddling him and wrapped his big hands around her tiny waist. He broke off the kiss and looked into her bright blue eyes. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Yes," she answered. "But only if you are."

"I am," he sighed, putting his lips against her neck and kissing her as he brought her down on his erection, burying himself inside her.

Amie wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, cementing their connection to each other. Dean moved his hips slowly, one hand on her breast, lightly caressing it, the other splayed across her lower back. They started slowly, trying to find the perfect rhythm. Dean was in no hurry, he was enjoying what he considered the ultimate connection; what was once only a way for him to let off steam was now the perfect way to express his love without words.

He nipped at Amie's shoulder, moving his way up her neck, pausing to pay particular attention to the scar left by the pureblood werewolf, a scar he wouldn't let her hide or be ashamed of, a scar she had acquired killing the monster that killed her family. Amie dropped her head back, giving him better access to her neck, the moans from the back of her throat vibrating against his lips. He could feel her racing pulse as he slid his tongue up to her mouth, his tongue immediately entering her. She moaned his name, her hips swiveling as she tightened around him, another orgasm taking her over. Dean groaned, both hands sliding down to grab her ass, encouraging her to move faster, as he pushed harder into her, her nails biting into his skin as she gripped his shoulders, his breath coming quicker and quicker until he felt the familiar sensation of release shoot through him.

They collapsed against each other, Amie pulling Dean tighter against her. It was something he'd grown accustomed to since they had become intimate. It was as if she needed just a couple extra seconds of the closeness they shared while they made love. He always accommodated her, allowing her to keep him where she wanted him until she was ready to let go. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, eyes closed.

"Dean?" she said.

"Hm?" he murmured.

"Dean, look at me," she said, panic in her voice.

Dean opened his eyes, but had to almost immediately squint them closed against a blindingly bright light. He brought a hand up to shield his face, but the light was surrounding him, encompassing him, flowing from Amie and washing over him. It was brightest in the middle of her chest, spreading to her arms and legs. She was holding her hands out in front of her, staring at them, her mouth hanging open.

"What the hell is happening?" she demanded.


	14. Chapter 13

**Part II**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Shannon was talking so fast Sam could barely understand what she was saying. She had pulled him into the library after he'd put his stuff away, insisting that she needed to show him something. She shuffled through the books, trying to explain everything she had been studying while he'd been gone. She kept pushing the hair falling over her face behind her ear, just to have it happen again a few seconds later. He watched her, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. He was having a hard time following what she was saying because all he could think about was the kiss she'd given him in the hallway. He was hoping they might be able to continue it later.

"Sam?" Shannon nudged him with her elbow. "Sam!"

"Sorry," he muttered, shaking his head. "What did you say?"

She sighed. "I asked you if there was anything else I should know before I do anymore research?"

"Um, no. No, I don't think so," he replied as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "Did you and Kevin find anything?"

"Not really. Kevin is checking some lore he found that's in an ancient language he's not familiar with; he's working on deciphering it now. I told him to let me know if he needed any more help," Shannon explained. "He sort of grunted at me and took the books to his room."

"Sounds like Kevin," Sam grinned. "How was hanging out with Amie? Did everything go okay?"

Shannon leaned against the table. "It actually went pretty well. She's a lot different than I initially thought. Is it true that her family was killed by some kind of monster?"

Sam nodded. "Her husband and her son were killed by a werewolf about three years ago. That scar on her neck? She got it a few months ago when we found the werewolf and killed it. It grabbed her and nearly ripped her throat out. If she wasn't so in tune with Dean, she'd probably be dead." He quickly told her how they had worked together without even speaking to kill it.

"They are definitely an interesting couple. Do you really think that the only reason they're together is because of that prophecy you told me about?" Shannon asked quietly.

Sam didn't answer right away. He stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes before answering. "Honestly? No. I remember how Dean seemed totally, I don't know, taken with Amie when we first met her. It was the first time I saw him actually flustered by a woman. She threw him off of his game." He laughed as he remembered how Dean had not seemed like himself at all when they had met Amie two years ago. "I know for a fact that there wasn't a cupid involved that day. No one touched them." When he saw Shannon's confused face, he explained. "That's how a cupid does it. They have to touch the two people they are marking to fall in love and it has to be at the same time. That didn't happen."

"So you don't think that a cupid has anything to do with them being together?" she inquired.

"I think that the cupid moved things along, got them going in the right direction. But Dean and Amie, there has always been something there, an undeniable chemistry. I'm not sure they could have stayed away from each other even without the cupid's interference," he explained.

"Do you think there's something to that?" Shannon asked. "Chemistry, I mean?"

Sam reached out and took her tiny hand in his and pulled her into his lap. He brushed her hair from her face. "I think that sometimes there can be something between two people, something they can't explain." He kissed her gently on the lips, feeling slightly nervous, worried what her reaction would be.

He was relieved when Shannon returned the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. Amie had told him that Shannon was developing feelings for him, and if he felt the same way he needed to do something about it. He was still nervous though, it wasn't like he had a great track record with women. He wasn't about to rush anything with Shannon. He wanted to make sure they took it slow, so he broke off the kiss much sooner than he wanted.

Shannon pulled away, her eyebrows drawn together, confused. "Is something wrong?" she whispered.

"No," Sam replied, shaking his head. "God, no! I just don't want to rush you. Or me. Look, I don't have very good luck with relationships and I really don't want to screw this up." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. "Is that okay?"

Shannon hugged him, pressing her small body against his. She kissed him on the cheek. "I am totally fine with that." She hopped off of his lap and started stacking the books on the table. "I'm going to put these books away. Do you want to help me?"

As Sam stood up to help, he felt a rippling sensation that nearly knocked him off of his feet. It was if he was standing on a raft in the ocean as waves moved it. Several of the books that Shannon had stacked fell over and slipped off of the table. She grabbed the table so she wouldn't fall at the same time that Sam grabbed her around the waist to steady her.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered before taking off down the hallway toward Dean and Amie's room.

"Dean?" he yelled, pounding on his brother's door.

Dean threw the door open within seconds. "Something's wrong with Amie," he said at the same time that Sam said, "Did you feel that?"

"What?" Sam said pushing past Dean. Amie was lying on the bed, a sheet wrapped around her, eyes closed. There was light coming from her, pulsating as it flowed from her body.

Sam stopped in his tracks, stunned. "Whoa, what is going on?"

Dean ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "I don't know. And that's not the only thing." He moved to the side of the bed and sat next to his girlfriend. "Amie, open your eyes," he instructed.

Amie shook her head and Sam could see tears running from the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks. "I don't want to," she whispered so quietly that he could barely hear her.

Dean leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She reached out a hand and he took it. Light flowed from her into him and Sam could see that Dean's arm was glowing from where he held Amie's hand to his elbow and through the veins in his biceps. He talked to Amie for a minute, his mouth next to her ear, one hand holding hers and the other smoothing her hair away from her face. Sam couldn't hear what he was saying, but when he sat up, Amie opened her eyes. They were completely black.

"Shit!" Sam took a step back, startled. He looked over his shoulder at Shannon, but fortunately she was standing in the doorway and had not seen anything. "Shannon, will you go wait in the library for me, please?"

She must have seen something in his eyes because she didn't argue, instead she simply nodded. "Call me if you need me," she said before turning and going back down the hallway.

Sam turned back to Dean. "When did this start?

"About five minutes ago," he answered. He got to his feet, though he kept a hold of Amie's hand. "And then there was that…pulse…that you felt."

"What were you guys doing when it happened?" he asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. Dean was standing in front of him in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, Amie was obviously naked under the sheet she was wrapped in, there was a pile of clothes on the floor and the blankets on the bed were in complete disarray. It was pretty obvious what they had been doing.

Dean shot him a look that would have scared the shit out of anyone else, but Sam blew it off, muttering "Uh, sorry. Never mind."

He stepped to the side of the bed so he could get a better look at her. "How's she feeling? I mean aside from the obvious glowing and the eyes thing."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," Amie mumbled. "I'm not feeling anything. No pain or anything. I can feel Dean touching me, but where ever he touches feels sort of tingly, like that pins and needles feeling you get when your foot that fell asleep is waking up. That's it, nothing else."

As Amie talked, Sam watched Dean. He never let go of her hand, never took his eyes off of her. His face was completely impassive, belying the worry Sam could see in his eyes. Suddenly, he realized something wasn't quite right about his brother. He took a closer look, examining the planes and lines of Dean's face. Then it struck him.

"What happened to your face?" he asked.

Dean looked at him, impatience pulling his mouth into a frown. "Christ, Sam you were with me. I hit my face on the floor when the djinn knocked me out. I cut my lip and raked up my cheek."

"Go look in the mirror," Sam replied.

"What? Why?" Dean muttered. He didn't wait for an answer, instead he let go of Amie's hand then stepped into the bathroom. Sam heard him swearing quietly before he came back out.

Dean's face was completely free of any marks. The cut on his lip was healed as were the scrapes he'd had all over his cheek. Sam glanced at his arm. The blue handprint left by the djinn was gone as well.

"What is it?" Amie asked.

Dean looked at Sam, then back at Amie. "My face…it's healed. The cuts and scrapes are gone. And the djinn's handprint, it's gone too."

"I think you should call Cas," Sam said.

"No," Amie said.

"Amie honey, I think it might be a good idea," Dean told her. "We have no idea what is going on…."

"I said no!" she yelled. The light coming from her intensified briefly when she yelled before it faded back to a dim glow. She put her arm over her eyes. "I don't want him here."

Sam looked at his brother and gestured toward the door. Dean nodded and held up a finger, indicating he needed a minute. Sam stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. He could hear them talking but not what they were saying. After a few minutes, Dean stepped out into the hall with Sam.

"I need a drink," he said, stalking off toward the library.

Sam followed him down the hall. Shannon was putting the books from the table back on the shelves. She watched Dean warily as he poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Dean? What are we going to do?" Sam finally asked his brother.

Dean swung around so fast that liquor splashed from the glass in his hand. "I don't know Sam! I don't fucking know! I don't even know what the hell is happening so how am I supposed to know what to do?" He quickly downed the whiskey and poured himself another from the bottle he still had clutched in one hand. He threw himself in the nearest chair, his body language conveying the frustration he was feeling.

Sam sat at the table across from Dean. "I'm sorry. Look, I know you're worried and pissed and any other number of things. But I still think we need to call Cas. He might know what's wrong with her."

"She doesn't want me to call him," Dean muttered. "She wants me to take her to talk to Crowley. Said she'd rather hear what he has to say than talk to Cas."

"Are you going to? Take her to Crowley I mean?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't trust Crowley, she doesn't trust Cas. It's a no-win situation."

Shannon slid into the seat next to Sam. "Who's Crowley?"

Sam had almost forgotten she was in the room. He sighed. This was not a discussion he wanted to have right now. But before he could say anything, Dean stood up. "I need to get back to Amie and it looks like you have some explaining to do. Have fun." He left the room, the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Sam turned to Shannon. "Crowley is a demon. Well, he's actually _the_ demon, the King of Hell. He's kind of our…prisoner."

Shannon's eye's widened as he spoke. "He's here?"

"Yeah, he is," Sam responded.

Shannon put her head down on the table, her hands gripping the back of her head. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, reassure her that she was safe with him, but he didn't want to spook her.

She took several deep breaths before she sat back up and looked at Sam. "You should have told me," she scolded. She put a hand up to stop him before he was able to say anything. "But I understand why you didn't."

Sam reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I was trying to protect you."

She squeezed his hand. "I know. And I really do understand. Is it safe, though? That's all I really care about it, that it's safe to be here."

Sam put his arm around her waist and hugged her, the need to protect her practically overwhelming him. "I swear I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Shannon leaned her head against Sam's. "Okay, that's all I need to hear."

Sam kissed her. All he wanted to do was curl up with her and hold her. Unfortunately, the world was slowly unraveling around them and he needed to help figure out how to fix it. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Maybe I should just call Cas, explain to him what's going on. At least that way, Amie won't be pissed at Dean, she'll be pissed at me. And Cas can go see her, figure out what the hell this all means," Sam said, thinking out loud.

Shannon shook her head. "If Amie doesn't want to see Castiel, I wouldn't call him. Something happened yesterday between the two of them, I don't know what, but she was screaming at him in the kitchen. It was something about the baby, I know that for sure." She looked off into space for a minute before returning her gaze to Sam. "Why does she want to talk to Crowley? What could he possibly know?"

"He could know a lot actually, being the King of Hell. And it's weird, Crowley and Amie have a sort of connection. He'll talk to her, whereas he won't always talk to us," Sam explained. "God, it drives Dean nuts. Literally makes him crazy."

He pushed back from the table and went to one of the bookshelves. He ran his fingers across the stacks of volumes, hoping one would jump out at him, give him some answers. He'd always been able to find what he needed in a book, maybe this time wasn't any different.

"So maybe she should talk to him," Shannon said. "What could it hurt?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. I guess…" He stopped and stood up straighter, listening. "Did you hear that?"

Shannon cocked her head to one side, obviously trying to hear whatever it was he had heard. "Yeah, I hear yelling," she replied, pushing back her chair and standing up.

"Now what?" he muttered before he took off down the hallway, running toward Dean and Amie's room. Just as he reached the closed door, he heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass. He pushed open the door and walked into chaos.

Amie was standing on the bed and at some point since he'd left earlier she'd put clothes on. The light coming from her had intensified, glowing so bright he could only look at her if he was squinting. Her eyes were still black and the expression on her face was murderous. She was pointing at Dean, who was against the wall by the bathroom door, not moving, held there by the sheer force of Amie's will. Castiel was across the room, watching her. The lamp from the bedside table was on the floor, shattered, chairs were knocked over and books and magazines were flung around the room.

"Get away from me!" she was screaming at Castiel as Sam came through the door. A chair flew across the room toward Cas, but he merely flicked his hand and it fell to the floor.

"Amie!" Sam yelled when he saw her.

She turned toward him and he could see tears running down her face, the tracks they left glowing brighter than the rest of her. "Make him go away, Sam, please? I don't want to hurt him, I swear to God I don't. But I can't stop it, I can't."

Sam wasn't sure if she meant Dean or the angel glaring at her from across the room. All he knew was he needed to diffuse the time bomb that Amie had apparently become. He took a careful step forward. Amie watched him warily, but she didn't move.

"Amie," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing. "Why don't you let Dean go? Let him go so he can help you, okay?" He took another step forward, only focusing on her. "He's not going to hurt you. He loves you, right? He won't let anything happen to you, but you have to let him go."

She dropped her hand and Dean pushed away from the wall. He quickly crossed the room to the edge of the bed, reached out and took Amie's hand, the one that she'd just used to hold him against the wall. His arm immediately started to glow, the light flowing up the veins in his arm to his neck.

"Keep him away from me," she mumbled, pointing at Castiel. "I don't want him near us."

Sam shot a look at his brother, who looked almost as confused as Sam felt. He shook his head and shrugged, mouthing "I don't know" before turning his attention back to his girlfriend.

During Sam and Dean's silent exchange, Cas had moved a step closer to Amie. She shook her head when she noticed, her hair flying around her. She put her hand up and made a gesture, as if she was shoving the angel, causing Castiel to stumble back a couple of steps. Sam saw Dean's eyes widen in disbelief and he was sure that he wore a similar expression on his face.

"I won't hurt you," Castiel said. "I promise."

"I don't believe you," Amie screamed. She suddenly dropped her chin to her chest, as if she couldn't hold it up any longer. "Just stay away from me."

Her voice sounded weak to Sam and she was obviously exhausted. He was sure she would collapse at any second. Castiel must have noticed it as well because he suddenly disappeared and then reappeared next to Amie. Before she could move, he grabbed her wrist.

The light coming from Amie suddenly tripled in brightness, flooding the room. Sam had to turn away and put his arm over his eyes to protect them. He heard something hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. As he watched, the light began to recede, flowing backward toward its source. He followed it with his eyes as it sped across the room and flowed back into Amie, as if she was pulling it back into herself. Her eyes drained of the demon-black color, the black sliding away like wet paint running down a wall, until Sam could see the bright blue of her pupils again. Within seconds, the light was gone. Amie looked around the room, before turning to Dean. When she made eye contact with him, she smiled, just before collapsing into his arms.


End file.
